


Say It's Possible

by cptniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - America, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, POV Multiple, Rich Harry, Rich Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 13:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 63,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2509463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cptniall/pseuds/cptniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles is an out-and-proud rich boy that just moved to New York City and got an acting job in a small-time a play to escape his family’s shadow. Louis Tomlinson, the lead in the play, is a dedicated actor from Ohio, and absolutely hates Harry from the second he meets him - or at least, he really tries to. He really, honestly tries to. He wants to hate this kid with every fibre of his being. But he just can’t - which becomes a big problem when one day, Louis realises that he actually likes Harry. Like, really likes him. </p><p>Or - the one where Louis really doesn’t want to be gay but being around Harry makes it fucking impossible to deny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Louis

**Author's Note:**

> This is available in PDF in anyone is interested! (it looks a lot prettier)  
> Part Two turned out to be a lot shorter than Part One and I don't know why. Some aspects, in particular Harry’s parents, are written OOC for the sake of the story. Louis and Liam’s birthdays are mentioned and aren’t when they actually are irl for convenience purposes (Louis’ birthday is in around March instead of December, and Liam’s November instead of August). Also the timing is a little hazy so for clarification sake, the fic starts in 2012, Louis and Zayn are 22 years old, Harry and Niall are 19 and Liam is 21. It finishes in the present day. Also, it's set in America but I am Australian so if I use any weird words or it sounds a bit off for the setting in parts I apologise. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you like it! This took literally forever lol.  
> I'm on tumblr (cptniall), come say hi :)

Louis is pissed. It’s not like he is generally a morning person – quite the opposite, in fact – but today especially, Louis Tomlinson just feels like punching someone in the head. 

And it’s not the fact that his scene with Zayn got cut when it was one of the best scenes in the entire damn play (as if Louis needed a reason to hate their director more), or that he didn’t have any good cereal this morning, or that he dropped his cell phone in a toilet. It’s mother fucking Harry Styles.

Harry Styles, with his goofy big smile and wide eyes and untamed curly hair that seems to have a mind of its own. The guy has been bugging Louis ever since he got cast in the play (his first ever acting gig, mind you) a month ago. The first thing he did upon arriving at his first rehearsal was announce to everybody in the cast that he’s gay. The next day, it was all over social media, like its some big news story that one rich-boy no-name actor likes dudes. Just because he has his business mogul daddy’s plastic in his back pocket, that makes him newsworthy? 

Louis isn’t homophobic – he has lots of gay friends. Well, he has _some_ gay friends. But it bothered him that this guy was so open about his sexuality, rubbing it everyone’s face like they gave a shit who he fucked. Be proud of who you are, that’s fine. But don’t shove it down his throat.

The worst part is, everybody else loves him for it. Claims the guy is heading a new generation of people who aren’t afraid to stand up for what they believe in. Louis thinks that’s a load of crap. He’s been standing up for gender equality for years, and no-one ever gave two craps about that, just because he didn’t try and preach it to everybody. Like his word was going to change how they think. Louis isn’t that self centered; he knows he’s only one guy. Just one guy with a big mouth and an opinion. He can’t change the world’s opinion on feminism and patriarchy, just like this Styles kid can’t change the world’s views on gay people. 

Louis thinks that’s a damn shame. He’d love for both he and Harry to change the opinions of the more ignorant minded people in the world; hell, just in tristate area would be good. But that’s not how the world works. So sometimes it’s best to just keep your mouth shut and do what makes you happy, regardless of what other people think.

Louis sees a familiar face approaching him as he stretches, but pretends not to. Because honestly, he can’t deal with Leigh-Anne’s shit right now, even if she is the reason he got the role in this play. She does nothing but hit on Louis, and even though she’s moderately attractive, if Louis’ being honest, he finds it obnoxious and annoying and inappropriate.

“Lou, what’s up?” She smiles, and Louis wants to smack her stupid face. 

“I’m sorry, is it not obvious? I’m reading my lines.” His response is hardly an invitation to stand behind him and put her hands on his hips, but she does it anyway. “The fuck are you doing?”  


She leans close to his ear and whispers, just loud enough for him to hear, “Why don’t you stop by my apartment later tonight? You can bring your friend if you want, I don’t mind.”  
  
Louis didn’t realize until then that he was staring at Harry, who’s standing nearby reading the back of a cracker box. He looks away quickly, and turns his body to get away from Leigh-Anne.  
  
“Fuck off, Leigh-Anne. I’m not in the mood today.”  
  
She retreats, and Louis thanks whatever gods exist for it.

“Alright. Whatever, your loss.” 

Once she leaves, Louis finds his eyes wandering back to watch Harry, who nonchalantly eats a cracker out of the box he was reading, before noticing Louis staring at him. Louis waits for Harry to look away so he can continue staring, judging, but Harry just stares back. He smiles, giving Louis this big, goofy, dimple-revealing smile that Louis knows he did absolutely nothing to deserve, winking at Louis before leaving the backstage area all together and heading towards the stage. 

Louis is so taken back he almost falls on his ass.

  
—-

  
When Louis gets home to his apartment that night, he can’t shake the mental image of curly hair and dimples and how much it all frustrates him. It makes him want to bang his head into a wall, but the walls in his place are brick, so he decides against it, because he’s not an idiot. 

Tired from the long walk up the stairs, Louis struggles to find the necessary force to open his front door. It gets stuck on the frame ever since Liam drunkenly spilled a strawberry daiquiri all over the threshold on his way into Louis’ place one Saturday night a few weeks ago, and Louis is way too lazy to clean it. 

The phrase “it isn’t much, but it’s home” definitely applies to Louis’ apartment. It’s the only place he’s lived since he moved to New York two and a half years ago, and though at 18 it was well out of his price range, working three jobs to keep it seemed worth it to Louis. Even now he would agree that it definitely was. 

The floorboards are a medium brown and slightly damaged, covering the whole apartment, including Louis’ bedroom. He bought a rug from Ikea to keep his bedroom warm, and it seemed so tiny in the store, but it covers almost the entire floor of Louis’ bedroom. There’s barely any room either side of Louis’ queen sized bed, but still enough for him to cover it with clothes, both clean and dirty. 

The bathroom is just big enough to fit a toilet, basin and shower, and the rest of the apartment is one big room (well, big compared to the bedroom and bathroom). Louis’ TV and a big, dark brown lumpy couch sit in the corner, surrounded by stacks of DVDs that Louis has no intention of buying a storage unit for. There’s also a fireplace against the wall, which has come in handy the few times Zayn has gotten far too drunk and thinks it’s a good idea to burn shit for fun. There’s a small dining table with three chairs around it, which is less for eating at and more for Zayn and Liam to sit at when they come over to have drinks at Louis’ place on the nights they deem themselves too poor to go to a bar. The walls are covered in things that Zayn has painted which Louis deemed too awesome to not have on his wall rather than having Zayn just throw them out. The kitchen is the best looking part of the whole apartment, so Louis considers it a real shame that all it is to him is a place to keep his leftover takeout cold and a place to reheat his leftover takeout. Liam’s cooked him breakfast a few times as repayment for Louis letting him sleep on his couch, but Louis himself has not once lit the burners on the stove or turned on the oven. 

And then there’s Bruce. Louis thinks the best thing by far about the apartment is the fact that he’s allowed to have pets, because he can’t imagine life without his five-year-old bulldog baby. Louis found out real quick when he moved to the city that it can be awfully lonely sometimes. Sure, Zayn had followed him to New York and moved just down the street and he’d already struck up a friendship with the dorky kid Liam from their acting class, and his mom and sisters were just a phone call away, but there was still something about New York that made him feel alone, even if he was surrounded by people. Everyone was there to help themselves. Aside from Zayn and Liam, Louis is still yet to find a person that cares about the interests of others more than they care about looking out for themselves. That kind of person is like a unicorn in New York City. 

That’s how Louis ended up at the pound two months after he moved in. Bruce was happy and friendly and loyal and everything Louis needed in his home to keep him sane. Something about knowing that Bruce literally needs Louis to exist makes Louis feel like he always has a purpose, even if the rest of the world seems to not give a damn about him. 

So, as always, Bruce bounds over to Louis’ side when he finally pries his way in the front door, and Louis happily obliges in giving Bruce a tummy scratch. 

“How’s my favorite boy?” Louis coos in a way that he never would if the guys were around. Bruce’s tail wags rapidly, and Louis laughs at the way his face looks as though he was smiling. 

After giving Bruce a sufficient amount of pats, Louis eventually makes his way over to his desk (see: his dining table when he puts his laptop on it) and after a few minutes spent deciding what kind of music he feels like listening to, he opens up Facebook. Only one notification - an inbox from Eleanor Calder. 

“Surprise, surprise” Louis mutters, shooting Bruce a knowing look. Bruce just sits at Louis’ feet and stares up at him. 

_Hey Lou. I tried to call you before but your phones off? anyway wanna come round tonight? I’ve got ridiculous amounts of leftover chinese with your name on it._

Louis shakes his head and immediately tries to think of a good excuse. It’s not that Eleanor’s not a nice girl - really, she’s a sweetheart. But she and Louis had dated for two months when he first moved to the city, and it was painfully clear to everyone but Eleanor that they were just wrong together. Louis had meant it when he said he wanted to stay friends, and it worked for the most part, but every now and then, usually after some random guy she got too attached to had slept with her and never called her back, she reaches out to Louis. She comes up with reasons for Louis to come over that she knows he will struggle to say no to, but he always has to, because if he did, she would throw herself at him. And for reasons he can’t quite put his finger on, he just doesn’t want that.

_Sorry El! lots of reading to do tonight. cant seem to remember my lines for shit. maybe another night._

Louis shakes his head to himself as he types the last sentence, mumbling out loud to no one in particular “aaaand we all know that will never happen”. 

Louis goes about Facebook stalking for another half an hour, and between reading about a distant cousin’s bus ride home from school and looking at photos of some guy he went to high school with’s cat, Louis decides that he really doesn’t give two shits about any of these people, so, after several minutes of writing “Ha” then “Harr” then “H” in the search bar before deleting what he’d typed every time, Louis resists the urge to be nosy and calls it a day. Because he really doesn’t care what Harry Styles does with his life. Honestly. 

  
—-  


“Nope!” Liam shakes his head. He’s sprawled on the floor in front of the couch Louis and Zayn are sitting on. “Can’t do it. Not okay. Nope, not good.”

Louis rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at him. Liam swats it away with his hand and scowls at Louis.

“It’s scary, okay?!” Liam pouts.

“Shhh, Louis and Zayn are trying to talk!” Louis clamps a hand over Liam’s mouth to demonstrate his point, but it doesn’t do much to muffle Liam’s protests. 

“Wish you wouldn’t.” Liam grumbles when Louis moves his hand. “You’re ruining the movie.”

“It’s Paranormal Activity, Liam, it’s already ruined by being shit.” Louis remarks, and Zayn bites back a laugh. 

He knows Liam’s grumpy at him for talking so much, but he also knows that Liam wouldn’t ever get actually proper angry at Louis. 

Louis isn’t self-important, but he knows that he and Zayn are the reason that Liam stayed in New York beyond his first six months. Liam had come from a loving, supportive family, but he had gone through high school with almost no friends, and was desperately lonely because of it. Of course, moving to New York when you’re desperately lonely is probably the worst decision a person can make, because New York may be a highly populated city, but no one is friendly, and no one gives a crap what anyone else is doing. 

Liam had been miserable. He was living alone in what Louis can only describe as a former crack den and home for three different species of rodent, and he had almost given up. From the first day Louis met Liam in acting class, Louis had seen that look in Liam’s eyes. The look of someone who needed another someone. So Louis had got Zayn to invite Liam out for a drink that night, and after a few weeks of being slightly uncomfortable with how outgoing and mischievous Louis is, Liam decided that he loved Louis, he loved Zayn, he loved the city and he was never, ever going to leave, even though Louis continued to find new ways to mess with Liam every day. 

Besides, Louis was the one that had convinced Liam to cut off his god-awful curly hair when they met, so Louis knows he can at least fully credit himself for Liam getting his first bang in New York. The kid owes him a lot. 

“Don’t go in thereeeeee.” Liam whines, bringing the hand that’s holding his beer up to cover his face. 

“Anyway.” Louis says, rolling his eyes for extra effect. “What were we talking about?”

“Harry Styles?” Zayn smirks. 

They most definitely _weren’t_ talking about Harry Styles.

“Hmm, don’t think that’s right.” Louis pulls a face at Zayn. 

“Nah, we were talking about Harry and how he has a massive crush on you.” Zayn’s smirk remains. Louis hates him right now.

“He does not have a crush on me.” Louis protests rather loudly. Liam shushes him for it. “Did I tell you El messaged me the other night?”

“Was she wanting to know if she could be a bridesmaid at your wedding to Harry?” Zayn giggles. Louis kicks him in the leg, sending a few drops of Zayn’s beer spilling over his lap. 

“No, but she was trying to get me to go round to her place again.” Louis replies. Zayn just shakes his head. 

“That girl will never learn, will she?”

“No Zayn, she will not.” Louis sighs. 

Zayn stares at Louis with a smirk for a few moments, Louis can see it out of the corner of his eye. Louis recognises that look as the one Zayn gets when he’s about to make a joke. Lovely. 

“Maybe her and Harry can get together and discuss what it’s like to have an unrequited love for Louis Tomlinson.” Zayn finally says, giggling a little again. 

Liam turns around swats at Zayn’s leg, as lovingly as one can, before turning his attention back to the TV. Louis glances over at it just long enough to see some girl being dragged down the stairs. It might actually be sort of scary if he was paying attention in the slightest. 

“You’d think after you and Liam collectively screwed over all her friends, she’d want nothing to do with me.” Louis remarks, giving Zayn a look. The one Zayn gives back is not a friendly one.

“Liam didn’t screw over Danielle.” Zayn whispers, so quietly that Louis can barely hear him. “You know that.”

“Well, there was definitely a lot of screwing done between you guys and Eleanor’s friends, that’s all I’m saying.” Louis retorts, giving Zayn a smirk of his own. 

“Whatever Tommo, I’m not the one Harry is in love with.” Zayn attempts to take a sip of his beer, but Louis slaps it out of his hand, sending it flying across the room. It lands on the floor near their dining table, spilling everywhere. Louis immediately bursts out laughing. 

“Alright, that’s it, play time’s over!” Liam exclaims, taking Louis’ beer from him as well and glaring at Louis and Zayn until they stop laughing and sit up straight. 

They watch the rest of the movie mostly in silence, with Zayn occasionally making kissy faces at Louis, and Louis sticking his tongue out at him.

  
—-

  
Everybody that knows him even a little bit knows that Louis is the worst to read lines with. Entertaining as hell, yes, but not only does he have the concentration span of a goldfish, but unless they’re on stage performing in front of a proper audience, he insists on turning everything into a punchline. 

So when the play’s director told Louis he needed extra rehearsal time, and Harry asked Zayn if he wouldn’t mind letting Harry rehearse with Louis for today, Zayn laughed at him for a few long minutes before cheerily telling him he’d be more than happy to relinquish that role.

Apparently Louis wasn’t given the memo, however, so when everybody else left rehearsal and he realised it was just him and Harry, he was not fucking happy, for lack of a better term. Things have never been exactly friendly between Louis and Harry; in fact they haven’t even spoken yet. But Louis still doesn’t like Harry. 

“What are you doing here? Where’s Zayn?” Louis asks, glancing around the now-empty theatre. 

“He, uh, he left. Went home, I’d imagine.” Harry replies, clearly nervous, his voice deeper than it should be for someone who’s only 19. It annoys Louis for reasons he can’t quite determine.

“He told me he was going to run lines with me today.” Louis says, his face blank, still not understanding what’s going on.

“I know. I asked if he wouldn’t mind me doing it— uh, reading lines, with you instead, maybe.” Harry looks at the floor for a moment before looking up at Louis, shooting him what can only be described as a puppy dog stare. Louis imagines that’s how Harry got anything he’s ever wanted in his life.

Louis looks at Harry for a few seconds, finally comprehending what’s going on, before he shakes his head and starts cursing.  
  
Five minutes of angry mumbling about Zayn later, Harry remains silent and still in the corner, fiddling with the pages of his script. Louis glances over at him and lets out a big, over-dramatic sigh. He may not like Harry, but he’s not a bad person. He’s not going to treat the kid like crap for no reason. 

“Well, alright then Curly, let’s get this over with.” 

Harry seems startled, but stands up from his seat in the corner and takes a few tentative steps towards Louis.

“Bad day?” Louis starts, not quite in character, which he blames on the fact that he’s not used to rehearsing with Harry. Louis glances down quickly at his script, then at the floor. Anything that isn’t Harry Styles’ face.

“No, bad week.” Harry replies, also in character. “Why didn’t you tell me about your appointment?

“I didn’t think it was all that important.” Louis replies, his voice slightly monotone, his body resisting every urge to let out another dramatic sigh. This is not how he wanted to be spending his Thursday afternoon.

“I’m your brother, Dave, I’d say it’s more than important.” Harry seems to have found a new confidence as soon as he stepped into character, because his gaze has not left Louis’ eyes once. Louis can feel it burning holes into his skin and it’s really fucking bothering him. 

“Uh… no, I told you, I’ll be fine… something something something…”  
  
Harry shoots Louis an incredulous look, and although he’s done a great job of ignoring Harry and merely going about his business so far, Louis still manages to catch it. It’s hard not to, the guy has a big head. Literally.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Harry shoots back, returning his gaze to the pages in front of him. He takes a step closer to Louis, for what Louis deems as absolutely no reason whatsoever. “That’s not what the doctor told me.”

It’s entirely unconvincing, despite Harry’s confidence, and Louis considers asking Harry how he even got the part, before he remembers his daddy probably bought it for him.

“Come on, Curly, it’s like you’re not even trying.” Louis reasons, angrily dropping his script to his side.

Louis doesn’t have time to feel bad about potentially hurting the kid’s feelings, because Harry is very clearly trying to bite back a smirk.  
  
“Hypocrite.” Harry smiles properly now, his dimples starting to appear.

“Excuse me?” Louis is taken aback by the kid’s balls, if he’s honest.

“Sorry, it’s just, I’m just wondering at what point you’re going to start taking your lines seriously and stop making a joke out of it all. In a play about a guy who has advanced lung cancer. Why should I give it my best effort if you won’t even bother trying?” Louis’ eyes are now locked on his script, but he notices out of the corner of his eye that Harry’s dubious expression hasn’t faded.  
  
The kid has a point. Louis doesn’t even bother denying that.  
  
“Well, I’m just a better actor than everyone else.”  
  
After a few seconds of tense silence, Louis finally looks up at Harry, and although he still hates the guy, he can’t hide the smirk on his face. Harry returns the smile, big and wide, spreading across his entire face as he shakes his head and returns his gaze to his script. The joke is almost a peace offering. And Louis can see that Harry is more than fucking happy to take it.

The next 45 minutes actually goes fairly quickly, causing Louis to doubt the truth behind the statement “time flies when you’re having fun”, because there is definitely nothing fun about being alone with Harry. Louis is sure of that. But if he’s being entirely honest, Louis would admit that compared to all the other selfish dicks in Manhattan, and despite the fact that he is a spoiled-ass rich-kid from Connecticut, Harry isn’t all that bad. Sort of. Maybe. 

  
—-

  
It’s not uncommon for the boys to go out after rehearsals and get wasted. It’s a necessary celebration for surviving their director, really. And Louis has become the sort of watcher of the group, staying more sober than he’d like to just to ensure the safety of his friends. He had a bad experience at a club on his 21st birthday, whatever, it’s no big deal. The main point is, he doesn’t like to get too wasted at clubs. 

Harry Styles had not yet been to one of these group bonding sessions. Being that he's underage, Louis didn't think it was that unfair (also he'd totally bitch slap anyone that thinks to invite Harry). Unfortunately for Louis, Zayn is a sucker for a puppy dog stare, and just generally a good person, so today when Louis announced they were going to Pauly's Bar, Zayn didn’t wait two seconds before turning around and asking Harry if he wanted to come. He even agreed to get Harry a fake ID - to which Harry had promptly pulled one out of his pocket. Louis had to bite back a snort. Of course Harry had a fake ID. Bloody rich kids. Zayn went on to warn Harry that he had to keep out of trouble though, because they didn't want Harry drawing attention to himself in case the bouncers get suspicious about his age. Harry had answered that yes, that wouldn't be a problem, but something on his face told Louis that it was a blatant lie, and Harry had no intention of being in any sort of sober state by the end of the night. 

If there’s anything Louis has learnt about Harry in the past few weeks of working with him it’s that at 19 the kid manages to get himself in a lot of trouble. Louis can’t imagine what kind of crap he got away with along with his undoubtedly insufferable rich friends back in Connecticut right under his parents noses. Zayn doesn’t seem to care, however, putting his own need to be a good person ahead of long term thinking.

Now, as he stands at the bar watching Harry drunkenly making out with a girl, of all things, Louis knows he probably should’ve warned Zayn about the potential for this happening earlier. But it’s a lot funner this way.   
  
“Someone mind explaining to me when Elton John over there turned straight?” Louis asks, almost confusing himself with the annoyance apparent in his voice.  
  
“I dunno Tommo, I’m not exactly receiving the Harry Styles newsletter.” Zayn smirks, pausing while he takes another gulp of his beer. “Maybe you should ask him, I still think he kinda has a thing for you.”  
  
“Fuck off.” Louis pushes Zayn in the arm, enjoying the way his friend stumbles, splashing beer all over what Louis is sure is one of Liam’s t-shirts. The slight commotion attracts Harry’s attention, and after glaring at Louis for a moment, he up and leaves the girl he’s with and staggers over.  
  
Without any further warning, a clearly hammered Harry looks Louis in the eye and slurs, “I hate you”. 

Louis doesn’t have time to react, and next thing he knows, Harry’s punching him in the face. Harry fucking Styles. Gangly, awkward, pretty boy Harry Styles. Zayn lunges at Harry in retaliation, but Louis connects a fist to Harry’s face before any of his friends get the chance.   
  
“What the fuck are you doing?” A beefy security guard steps in between them, punching Harry in the stomach so he keels over onto the ground. “Get out kid, you don’t wanna get yourself in more trouble.”  
  
Harry pushes the security guard off him and looks at Louis once again. He holds his gaze a little longer than he should, and stumbles his way out the door of the bar leaving Louis to wonder what the fuck just happened. 

Watching Harry attempt to walk away, Louis ponders the situation for a moment before reaching behind the bar to grab some ice and a rag, giving Zayn $50 for a cab and running out the door after Harry.   
  
“This is just sad” 

Harry is curled up in a ball against the outside wall of the bar, looking completely pathetic and helpless. Louis would feel sorry for him if it wasn’t so fucking hilarious.  
  
“What’s your problem?” Louis takes a step closer, but not at all attempting to help him up. Harry looks up at Louis, bitter eyes staring daggers into him, furthering Louis’ confusion. 

“Me, what’s _your_ problem?”  
  
“I don’t have a problem. Get off the ground, Curly.” Louis finally offers Harry his free hand, but Harry smacks it away angrily, scowling at Louis.  
  
“Don’t touch me, you freakin’ hypocrite” Louis, in a state of confusion, doesn’t even hit Harry again for being such a jerk. There’s a real honesty in Harry’s glassy eyes, and it shocks Louis into silence. “You claim to be all about doing what you want, and being yourself, and fuck the rest. You suck, you don’t even admit to it.”  
  
“And what the fuck am I meant to admit to, Princess?”

“You, you’re... I mean, I...” Harry collapses against the wall. “Forget it man, you’re not worth it.”

At this point, Louis doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. Harry’s slumped against the exterior wall of a bar, completely hammered, having made out with a girl when he’s openly gay and rambling on about Louis not admitting to things and being a hypocrite. And Louis feels, almost... _guilty_.  
  
“Alright, well come on Curly, I’ll walk you back to your apartment.”  
  
“Why?” Harry slurs, frowning at Louis. “You never do anything nice. You’re kind of an asshole.”

He has a point.   
  
“Because you’re gonna get in a lot of trouble if you stay out here, we both will. Get up, you’re a little bit pathetic. I almost feel bad for you.”

Harry finally accepts Louis’ hand, letting himself be pulled off the ground, his tall, lanky body slouched as he drapes his arm over Louis’ shoulder. Louis tries to ignore the fact that their faces are now so close that he can smell the vodka and cigarette smoke on Harry’s breath. He smells the way Louis’ father used to when he came home from a bender, and Louis winces at the thought of opening that door. He distracts himself further by holding the makeshift ice pack up to Harry’s already-bruised eye, flinching a little when Harry’s larger hand covers Louis’, holding both Louis’ hand and the ice to his face.

“Sorry for punching you.” Harry grumbles, sounding like a toddler that’s just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I’ve never punched someone before.”

“You know, I’m not at all surprised by that.” Louis adjusts Harry’s arm around his neck. “Don’t worry about it, it barely hurt.”

“Nothing hurts the great Louis” Harry sighs, and Louis decides to change the subject before Harry starts verbally abusing him for no reason again. 

“Where’s your apartment?” Louis asks, breathless from the effort it’s taking him to carry Harry’s weight on his shoulder.

“Gramercy Park” is what Louis thinks Harry says in response, but he must have misheard through the mumbling, because there is _no way_ a kid of 19 lives in an apartment in Gramercy Park by himself.

“Excuse me?”

“303 East 18th Street, Gramercy P—” Harry starts, his voice getting a little shouty for Louis liking, causing him to clamp the hand that was previously holding the ice over Harry’s mouth. Louis isn’t impressed with the way Harry tries to bite Louis’ hand. 

“You seriously live in Gramercy Park? Jesus Christ, Styles, I knew you came from money but that’s a little ridiculous.”

“My parents pay my rent.” Harry responds quietly, almost ashamed. Louis can understand why Harry would be ashamed of that. When Louis was Harry’s age, he was completely financially independent, had left his family behind in Ohio, was working as a bus boy at two different restaurants and a waiter at another and had just signed a lease for his own apartment in Manhattan. But Louis, for some daft reason, feels _guilty_ for the way Harry seems to feel bad about his wealth.

The walk from where they are to Gramercy Park is a fair while, about 45 minutes at normal walking pace, but Louis doesn’t mind the fresh air, and he’s not nearly tired enough to go to sleep if he was to catch a cab and be home in ten minutes anyway. 

They walk in silence for a minute or two, the only sound being Harry’s loud breathing and Louis’ occasional mumbled complaints about how surprisingly heavy the kid is, until Harry’s back chattering like a monkey again.   
  
“Louis is a French name” The way Harry accentuates the word ‘French’ results in him spitting all over Louis’ face, and all of a sudden Louis is regretting helping the guy. “Your name, is stupid. Louis. Louieeeee. Does anyone ever call you Lewis?”  
  
“No, because my name is Louis.” His voice is mumbled, but Harry still manages to understand him.  
  
“Do you have a middle name? Is it also French? Oh wait, lemme guess, this coul’ be a fun game! Jean Claude? Pee Pee Le Pee?” Harry gasps, and Louis swears the kid inhales so much air he almost passes out. “I know, Vivien!”

“My middle name is not _Vivien_ , you twat.”  
  
Louis can’t be sure whether Harry’s disappointed or just so drunk that he’s completely stopped thinking, but he stays silent for a good few minutes. Louis is certainly not disappointed; he actually prefers the kid when he’s sober to when he’s like this. And fuck it if it’s not because he’s just not _Harry_ when he’s drunk.  
  
“William.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“William, okay, Louis William Tomlinson. That’s my name.”

Louis never tells anybody his full name. In fact, most people around the theatre just call him “Lou” or “Tommo”. His landlord actually calls Orlando, for reasons Louis can’t quite figure out. The only people in New York that know his full name are Zayn and Liam, and that’s because Liam calls Louis’ mom on a regular basis, and Zayn’s known Louis since he was a kid. Louis isn’t even entirely sure why he’s telling Harry, but, he just is.  
  
“Yeah I heard what you said the first time, I jus’ wann’ hear you say it again” Harry’s smile is nothing short of goofy, but it doesn’t last long before Louis shoves him into a nearby shrub.  
  
“Ow! What are you doing, Vivien, that hurt.” Being face down on the grass, his slurs are barely audible.  
  
“You deserve it for being annoying.” Louis wants to just leave him on the ground, considering he likes seeing Harry make an idiot of himself, but if anyone sees him like this they’ll both get in trouble. So Louis just picks him up off the ground again and continues the long walk to Harry’s apartment, hating himself for the smile that appears when Harry rests his head on his shoulder.  

  
—-

  
Rehearsals for the play have been going unexpectedly well, and considering how shitty the writing and directing is, Louis takes full credit for their success. Well, he’s happy to share the credit with Zayn and maybe even Harry, if you catch him on a good day, but it’s mostly Louis’ doing. So he blames that for his good mood when the cast are getting ready to head off for the night after rehearsal, some of them out to a club, some of them home to bed. And it’s definitely his good mood that is responsible for the way Louis actually _smiles_ at Harry from across the room, a smile which Harry seems more than eager to return. Louis likens his bright, beaming grin to that of a labrador puppy who has just been told he’s being taken on a walk. 

Louis shakes his head, his smile more genuine now in spite of himself as his pulls on a thick sweater, preparing himself for the New York winter awaiting him outside. 

“Hey, great work Tommo, as per usual.” Liam says as he approaches Louis. 

Liam is an actor, like Zayn and Louis, and a really talented one, actually, but he’s working on his own stuff at the moment. He likes to branch out and do his own thing; they’ve found that if the three of them work together on a project, it ends up with one of them feeling excluded and arguments starting over petty things like inflection. So it means a lot to Louis that Liam goes out of his way to see their shows and rehearsals, but that’s just the kind of person Liam is - he’s got a heart of gold, without a doubt. 

“Zayn says he’s going out, I think I’m gonna join him. What are you feeling?”

Louis smirks, unsurprised. Liam follows Zayn like a puppy dog. It’s endearing and adorable, and Louis is pretty sure Zayn would fall into a pit of depression if Liam were to ever stop.

“Thinking I might just head home. I stayed at Z’s last night and I get the feeling Brucey is missing me a bit.”

“Oh, of course.” Liam nods, completely understanding. He catches a movement out of the corner of his eye, and Louis watches as Liam steals a glance at Harry before turning back to Louis. “That’s Harry right? What’s his deal?”

“What do you mean, ‘his deal’?” Louis asks, fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

“Well, he’s a little bit adorable, isn’t he?” Liam starts, and Louis snorts. “Zayn seems to think he has a bit of a thing for you.”

“He’s gay, and I happen to be a very attractive male, thank you very much Liam, so why wouldn’t he be madly in love with me?” Louis bats his eyelashes at Liam, hoping that his joking around will divert the conversation from the direction he’s worried it may be taking.

“You should be nice to him. It can’t be easy being gay and having a crush on someone who’s strictly into lady parts, you know?” Louis has to restrain himself from laughing out loud at that comment, and the way it was just so _Liam._  

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks Li.” Louis smirks, clapping a hand on the taller male’s shoulder. “Now, if you excuse me, I have a beautiful dog to get home and feed.”

Liam waves his hand dismissively in response, heading over to Zayn, who’s talking to their director, Ben, undoubtedly giving his notes. Louis thinks Ben could definitely afford to taken some suggestions on board. 

“Thanks for coming, Payno! See you later, Z!” Louis calls as he heads for the exit, catching Harry’s gaze as he reaches for the door handle.

“Bye, Louis. You did really well tonight.” Harry says, hair flopping in his eyes in a way that really annoys Louis. Really, it does. Surely the kid can afford a haircut? Or a headband? His hair is out of control and Louis totally does not like it. Definitely not. Really. 

“Thanks. You too, Styles.” Louis gives Harry a quick, polite smile, and pretends not to notice the way Harry’s cheeks flush red as Louis turns away and heads out the door. Except he totally did notice. And on the walk home, Liam’s words replay in Louis’ head over and over again until Louis is sure he never wants to hear Liam’s stupid, intelligent voice ever, ever again. 

  
—-

  
Louis Tomlinson does not consider himself friends with Harry Styles. Not at all. So when he got invited by Harry himself to drinks at Harry’s house tonight, Louis was not impressed. And his answer was definitely a firm no.

“I’ll come if I can bring Zayn and Liam.” Louis had said.

Dammit. That is so _not_ what he wanted to say. 

But he couldn’t backtrack, because Labrador Puppy Styles had come out to play, and his face had lit up like a Christmas tree at Louis’ response. It’s really hard to upset the guy when he looks so damn happy. Louis hated that. 

“Of course they can come! I was going to invite Zayn anyway, and Liam, is that the guy that was here the other night after rehearsal?” Louis nodded, so Harry continued. “Great. He seems like a nice guy.”

“So what’s the occasion anyway?” Louis had asked, hoping that Harry doesn’t consider them good enough friends to just invite him over for no reason. Because they’re not. 

“Um, well, my best friend is coming to visit from Connecticut, it’s the first time I’ve seen him in months.” Harry said, still grinning, seemingly not having noticed Louis’ reaction to this new development.

Louis immediately regretted agreeing to go to this thing. Dealing with one rich fuckboy is enough, he doesn’t need to have to pretend to be nice to Harry’s surely obnoxious and equally spoiled best friend as well. 

But here he is, at Harry’s door, Liam on one side of him and Zayn on the other, and though he is still regretting his decision, he’s here. He considers turning around and leaving, but Liam senses Louis’ mood and reaches out to knock on the door for him. Fucking Liam. Always doing the right thing. Louis hates that sometimes. 

Harry answers the door, dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up tucked into a pair of khaki shorts, his hair pushed back off his face in a way that makes him look five years older.

“Dear god,” Louis starts, shaking his head, looking Harry up and down. “the only way you could look more Connecticut is if you had a pastel coloured sweater draped over your shoulders.”

“Ignore him,” Zayn says over Louis’ shoulder “He’s a jerk for no reason sometimes.”

“Come in.” Harry smiles, seemingly unfazed by Louis’ comment. Louis hated that. He was starting to hate a lot of things about Harry.

Harry’s apartment is beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that Louis is almost taken aback when he walks in. He’s only seen it in the dark before, and he barely stayed long enough to drop Harry on his bed, but now that he can properly look around, he’s not disappointed. The ceilings are high, and the whole place is light and vast. The white walls and furniture contrast with the dark floorboards, and Louis can see from the entry that the kitchen is at least twice the size of Louis’ bedroom. It makes Louis’ apartment look like a dungeon.

It takes Louis a few moments to notice the blonde male sitting on the absurdly large and expensive looking white leather couch. He lazily rises from his seat when the boys notice him, extending a hand to greet them. 

“Hi, I’m Niall. Harry’s best friend.” He smiles a perfect, white smile at them, and Louis hates him already. Niall is wearing a white polo shirt buttoned all the way up to the top with a pair of khaki slacks and white high tops. He and Harry look like twins, and it sickens Louis.

“I’m Zayn.” Zayn grins back at Niall, shaking his hand, and Liam does the same. “This is Liam.”

The two boys step back, waiting for Louis to introduce himself, which he takes a moment to do.

“Louis.” he says bluntly, shaking Niall’s hand as politely as he can before continuing to gaze around the apartment.

“Harry, this place is unbelievable.” Zayn says, and he’s not wrong. Zayn’s apartment is not much bigger or nicer than Louis’, the only real difference being that Liam and Zayn decided to move in together a year ago, so they’ve got two bedrooms, which Louis does not.

“Thanks. I feel like I’m sort of cheating, considering I don’t pay for it myself.” Harry admits sheepishly, but Zayn and Liam react politely and in a way that doesn’t embarrass Harry, because Louis has already told them both this, of course. Also Liam is too busy staring at the fish in Harry’s ostentatious aquarium to fully listen to what Harry is saying. Zayn tries to get Liam’s attention to stop him, but Niall is greatly amused by it too, so he decides to let them go. 

“So, uh, who wants to get drunk?” Harry smiles uneasily, surveying the mood of the room. 

It’s a bit of an awkward situation, to say the least. Zayn and Louis come from poor families, from parents who divorced and single mothers who struggled to make ends meet. They spent their teenage years playing football at the park near their house and working at the local fast food outlets to save up for their futures. Liam was in a better situation than them, coming from a more wealthy background in Minnesota with parents who were very family oriented and loving, but even his childhood still didn’t come close to that of Harry and Niall. Louis has met kids like them before, and he knows the story. Stupidly rich parents who hate each other and love their money and their mansions more than they love their kids. Louis doesn’t doubt for a second that Harry and Niall would’ve spent their high school days partying, driving expensive cars and passing their classes because their dads gave their school the money to build the new science wing. Needless to say, that doesn’t leave the five of them with much to talk about. 

“I’m in.” Zayn grins, holding up the full bottle of tequila he’d bought with him. That catches Niall’s attention, and he grins right back at Zayn before raising his hand for a high five, which Zayn happily accepts. Liam turns his attention away from the fish long enough to make a noise Louis assumes means he agrees with the rest of them, and within fifteen minutes, a beer pong table has been set up in Harry’s living room. 

The first game is Zayn and Louis vs Niall and Harry, naturally. What’s very, very unnatural, however, is how Harry and Niall proceed to completely wipe the floor with Zayn and Louis. Well, not so much Harry, who, as Louis expected, has the motor skills of a penguin. It’s mostly Niall, who is (as much as Louis hates to admit it) annoying Louis significantly less as the night goes on. Maybe it’s because he laughs loudly and genuinely at almost everything Louis says. Or maybe it’s because Louis’ getting kinda drunk already. 

After Zayn insists on swapping partners and recruits Liam on his team, and Louis decides to join forces with Niall, another game is underway, and though Louis plays significantly better this time, he gets increasingly distracted by the fact that Harry is definitely staring at him over the brim of his cup. 

Zayn and Liam win this time, with Louis blaming Niall for their teams loss and Niall seeming more than happy to accept the blame. The five of them sit around Harry’s living room for a bit longer, Harry and Louis laying on opposite ends of the couch, Liam leaning against the makeshift beer pong table, Zayn sitting cross legged on a pillow on the floor and Niall sprawled next to him. They chat for a bit about the play, and Louis expects Niall to be quite judgemental about it all, but he seems really supportive and chilled. 

“So what do you do with yourself, Niall?” Liam asks, pouring himself his seventh drink. “Besides competing in the Olympic Beer Pong team.”

“I work for my dad.” Niall says nonchalantly, like it’s literally the most unimportant thing in the world. For a guy like Niall, Louis thinks, work probably _is_ the most unimportant thing in the world. “He owns a chain of health food stores. I do marketing and stuff. Sit in on board meetings. You know.”

Liam nods like he does know, just to be polite, but it’s far from anything Liam or Louis knows or has experienced. 

“Health food, that’s cool.” Liam says, looking genuinely interested. 

Niall draws his eyebrows together and looks at Liam like he just grew a third head. “No, dude, it’s far from cool. It’s the worst. I ask him all the time why he couldn’t have just opened up a brewery or something.”

“ _That_ would be a cool job!” Louis agrees, and Niall winks at him and tips his cup in Louis’ direction.

“No it wouldn’t,” Harry frowns, shaking his head. “Niall, you’re 19, you’re not legally allowed to drink yet. Besides, getting free healthy food is a lot better for you than getting free beer.”

Zayn, Louis and Niall laugh in response to this, and Louis can see Liam shooting Harry an understanding and sympathetic glance across the room. They start having separate conversations after that, each boy yelling louder than the last to be heard over the top of the other four, laughing hysterically every few seconds, and Louis grins when he thinks that if this was his apartment, the neighbours would be banging on the walls with their fists right about now. Louis doesn’t know how they’ve done it, but somehow, this night hasn’t turned out half bad. 

It isn’t long, however, before everyone except Zayn and Louis are absolutely wasted. Somewhere between Harry stripping off his pants and singing lullabies to Niall and Liam trying to ride Harry like a pony, the three of them became unable to even speak proper sentences. 

“Do you think…” Louis starts, scratching at the back of his neck and avoiding Zayn’s eye. “Do you think Niall and Harry ever hooked up?”

Zayn just looks at Louis with what can only be described as pure confusion. 

“I mean, Harry’s gay, yeah? And Niall didn’t say anything about girls tonight. Or boys. Maybe they’re, like, hooking up? Or exes? Gay people are usually good at being friends after they break up, from what I’ve heard.”

Zayn continues to look at Louis like he can’t believe he’s still talking. Then, after a few tense moments during which Louis wants to sink into the floor, Zayn laughs. Not a polite laugh, the kind of laugh that takes over his whole face and makes his eyes crinkle. 

“Dude, I have no idea. I can safely say I did not spend even a second of my night thinking about whether Harry’s had his dick up Niall.” Zayn shakes his head as his laughter dies out, and Louis is desperate to change the subject. 

“Alright, you take Liam home, and I’ll sort out the Doublemint Twins.” Louis sighs, clapping Zayn on the shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” Zayn asks, and when Louis shoots him a skeptical look, he continues. “I mean, a few hours ago, you would’ve murdered them both without blinking an eye, can I really trust their young, defenceless bodies alone with you?”

“Yes, Zayn, I’m not a complete psychopath.” Louis snaps in retort, pushing Zayn towards Liam’s now sleeping form. 

Zayn throws Liam over his shoulder, struggling under the weight of the larger male, but bearing it nonetheless, and once they’re gone, Louis shakes Niall’s shoulders in an attempt to wake him up a bit, which seems to work.

“Louis?” Niall mumbles, slapping his hand against Louis’ face and squishing his cheeks. “Cute. Cute cute Louis.”

Louis rolls his eyes, lifting Niall up and throwing Niall’s arm around his shoulder. Having spent the better part of six hours at Harry’s place now, he knows that there’s a second bedroom right next door to Harry’s, so he carries Niall there. Niall doesn’t need to be told twice to get into the bed, crawling all over the sheets like a cat until he finds a place he deems comfortable enough. Louis laughs softly to himself for what feels like the millionth time that night thanks to something Niall’s done, finally admitting that okay, maybe Niall’s actually a good guy. 

“You be nice to my Harold, Louis.” Niall mumbles, and just like that, he’s asleep. 

Louis shuts the door quietly behind him, and stops short when he sees Harry, who has now taken off his shirt too and his sprawled nearly naked on the beer pong table, chest rising and falling as he stares at the ceiling, his eyes fighting to stay open.

“Alright, come on, Curly, bed time for you.” Louis says softly, trying his best to lift Harry off the table. Harry’s entire torso is sticky from the soda that had been spilled on the table he was laying on, and he reeks of tequila, but this is apparently becoming a thing for Louis and Harry now, so Louis just goes with it. 

Unlike last time, however, Harry is currently beyond the point of being chatty and childlike and is near completely passed out. His hair is hanging in his face, so Louis does his best to push it back, but the way Harry’s head is hanging makes it impossible. Louis thinks he hears Harry mumbling something, but it’s almost completely intelligible, so he ignores it. 

“Come on, babe, almost there.” Louis says soothingly, not even noticing at first his use of the affectionate nickname he only uses when talking to Zayn or Liam. When he realises what he’s said, he practically throws Harry the rest of the way to his absurdly large bed. Or at least, he tries to, but Harry is clinging to Louis’ shirt and as a result, Louis is dragged down with him. 

“Lou.” Harry breathes, his body radiating heat even though it’s freezing outside. Louis considers staying there on the bed with Harry, just for a few more minutes, but then remembers that he can’t imagine anything worse than spending more time with Harry Styles than necessary. Really.

“Go to sleep, Haz. I’ll see you at rehearsal in a few days.” Louis hesitates for a moment, before patting Harry on the head like the puppy he is, and turning to leave. He makes it almost all the way to the front door before he stops himself. After a moment of contemplation, he lets out a big, dramatic sigh and turns on his heels, walking briskly back to Harry’s room. He pulls the covers over Harry, stuffing a pillow under his head and nods, pleased with himself.

“God, I’m such an upstanding citizen.” Louis mumbles to no one. “They should erect statues in my honour.”

And then he leaves, catching himself smiling at the sound of both Harry and Niall snoring loudly as he locks the door behind him. 

“Not a bad night.” Louis says, again to himself as he shakes his head.

  
—-

  
Louis thinks today might be the worst day of his life. And he’s definitely _not_ overreacting, thank you very much.

He and Zayn had made the spontaneous decision to go out drinking, and what started out as a few quiet drinks ended up as a full-on bar crawl that didn’t finish until 4am, and Louis had really enjoyed himself. Like, it was a lot of fun. 

Too much fun, if his splitting headache and the dull sick feeling in his stomach are anything to go by. 

Louis decides he hates Zayn and that he is never ever drinking beer again. 

It’s now just past 1pm, and Louis is yet to move from the couch he woke up on two hours ago (he had been snuggling Bruce, but he’ll deny it if anyone asks). Zayn had rolled off the other end of the couch at 11am, muttering something to himself about not wanting to be late for brunch with Liam, and Louis hadn’t had enough energy to make fun of him for it. And that’s saying something. 

He considers calling to get pizza delivered, but the front door is just _so_ far away, and no matter how hungry Louis is, it really just isn’t worth it. So he settles for fishing his cell phone out from the couch cushions and after a few solid minutes of trying really hard to care what his Facebook friends have been doing, Louis decides a game of Cube Racer is calling his name. 

The bright colours aren’t doing anything for his headache and he thinks his bladder might explode if he doesn’t take a piss soon, but seriously, getting off the couch would be the absolute worst thing in the world right now. 

That’s why Louis considers throwing himself out of the nearest window when he hears a knock at his front door. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Louis mutters to himself, but decides to ignore it. Bruce leaps off the couch and runs to the door, wagging his tail excitedly. If it was Liam or Zayn they’d have texted him first that they were coming around, and they haven’t, so since it’s not either of them it can’t be _that_ important.  

But then whoever it is, the evil motherfucker, knocks again, louder and for longer, and Louis might be bat shit crazy but he thinks they’re knocking to the tune of _Wouldn’t It Be Nice_. And Bruce is whining now. So, just for the sole purpose of getting whoever it is to stop, Louis drags himself off the couch, straightening up his black t-shirt and shoving his hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants as he heads for the door, muttering to himself the whole way.

“Hi!” None other than Harry fucking Styles is beaming brightly at Louis, and Louis seriously considers just shutting the door in his face and going back to the couch. 

But Bruce jumps on Harry’s legs, and Harry’s smile gets even wider.

“Hey little guy! Oh, you’re so cute. I’d pat you but I don’t seem to have a free hand, I’m terribly sorry.”

“Harry.” Louis starts, eyeing the kid up and down. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, um, I thought since you’re hungover that maybe you’d want some food and movies and stuff.” Harry holds up a Burger King bag in one hand and a few DVDs in the other. Anchorman, Step Brothers, and another two that Louis can’t see. He does love Will Ferrell, though he doesn’t remember ever telling Harry that. 

“How did you know I was sick?” Louis asks, narrowing his eyes at Harry. Harry pulls his iPhone out of his pocket.

“Louis Tomlinson - feeling close to death. Fuck hangovers, I’m never drinking again.” Harry reads from the screen before tucking the phone back into the pocket of his super tight jeans. Like, wow, they’re really tight. How he even fit his phone in there is beyond Louis, let alone his junk and other things. And now Louis is desperately scrambling to stop himself from thinking about Harry Styles’ junk.  

“So you saw my Facebook status,” Louis starts, and Harry nods simply. “And you decided to come all the way here. You caught the subway 15 minutes from Gramercy Park. To bring me food and Will Ferrell DVDs.”

“Well, it took like half an hour actually. Burger King is kinda far.” Harry frowns, glancing down into the bag of food. Louis looks at him in disbelief for a moment before realising. 

“Oh God, Harold.” Louis smirks, shaking his head. 

“What?” Harry asks, puzzled.

“You realise there’s a Burger King on 5th Avenue, right?”

Harry stays quiet for a really long time, and Louis wants to laugh at him, but he can tell Harry feels really badly and he just can’t do that to the kid. 

“I did not realise that and now I feel very stupid.” Harry says, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. Louis rolls his eyes dramatically and moves back from the doorway. Why not let the kid hang out for a bit. He did go to all this effort after all, and it’s snowing outside, and Louis’ not an animal, for gods sake.

“Well, are you coming in or what?” 

The way Harry’s face lights up is almost comical, and he practically trips over his feet coming in the front door. He walks over to Louis’ kitchen counter, Bruce following his every step, and carefully places the bag of food down.

“I wasn’t sure what you like so I got one of each of my four favourite burgers and also some fries.” Harry says, his voice as deep and slow as ever. Louis is starting to think his voice gets deeper every day.

“I think a cheeseburger will suffice for now.” Louis replies, taking said cheeseburger from the counter along with a large fries. He’ll probably eat the bacon double cheeseburger later. 

This whole situation is bizarre. No one has ever just showed up bearing gifts when Louis’ been sick before. Louis isn’t sure how to react. Is he supposed to say thank you? Is he supposed to hug Harry? His whole body nearly jolts at the thought of it. He glances over at the younger boy, who is now checking out Louis’ apartment, and decides against it. They’re definitely not at the hugging stage yet. 

“Your place is lovely.” Harry says, getting a snort out of Louis. 

“It’s no Gramercy Park, that’s for sure.” Louis opens his fridge, scanning it’s limited contents for a drink. 

“It’s homely.” Harry comments. Louis decides on a Mountain Dew for himself, and a vitamin water for Harry. He seems like the type.

“ _Homely_ is what people say when they’re trying to politely say small and ugly.” Louis says. “Like when someone has a baby and people say ‘oh, look at all that hair!’ or ‘wow, he’s so big!’. They’re trying to tell you that your baby is ugly.”

“No baby is ugly, Louis.” Harry scolds, and Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes. The funniest part is, he knows that Harry genuinely believes that.

Louis throws Harry the vitamin water as he heads to the living area, food in hand, and notes the way that Harry smiles at the drink appreciatively. He decides _Step Brothers_ is the best choice for a movie, and pops it in the DVD player before settling himself back down on his spot on the couch, not missing the way Harry hesitates as he walks over himself.

“You can sit, you know.” Louis eyes Harry, amused. “I don’t have any contagious diseases.”

Harry smiles gratefully at this, hair flopping in his eyes as he drops on the opposite end of the couch and Bruce leaps onto his lap shortly after. Louis stares at him for a bit longer after this, unable to stop himself from wondering why Harry hadn’t chosen to sit on the middle seat closer to Louis. Louis’ not bothered or anything, really, he prefers the space. Really. He just expected Harry to sit closer. 

They watch the movie in silence for the most part, and Louis actually enjoys it - mostly because, unlike Liam and Zayn, Harry just laughs when Louis says lines at the same time as the characters do on the screen rather than beating him over the head with the nearest pillow. Bruce seems content with the company too, spending the entire movie curled up in Harry’s lap or licking Harry’s hands until Harry starts patting him. Louis would hate to disappoint Bruce, so when _Step Brothers_ is finished, he gets up and puts another movie in the DVD player without even bothering to ask Harry if he wants to stay for another (because let’s be honest, who wouldn’t want to spend another two hours in Louis’ company?). 

Suddenly, Louis is opening his eyes wearily, and it takes him a moment to figure out who he is, what year it is and what he’s doing. After all that processes in his head, he breathes in the smell of clean laundry and men’s cologne and instantly realises — oh, yep, he’s fallen asleep on Harry’s shoulder. Lovely. 

Louis jerks his head up, eyes looking anywhere but Harry’s face as he adjusts his beanie. The TV is showing the main menu screen of _Talladega Nights_ , and Bruce is now napping near the front door. 

“What…” Louis starts, his brain struggling to wake up. “Um, how long was I out for?”

“About an hour.” Harry replies, stretching his neck and back with a look of relief. 

“An hour— Harry, the movie was almost finished when I fell asleep.” Louis looks at Harry now. “Have you just been sitting there doing nothing?”

Harry’s cheeks turn a slight shade of red, not nearly as red as his lips though. Not that Louis ever looks at his lips or anything. Really. “I didn’t want to move and wake you up.”

“You— you didn’t want to… Right. Well. Thanks.” Louis stumbles, scratching at the back of his neck.

Louis can firmly state that he has never in his life met anyone like Harry Styles, and he’s sure he never will again. 

  
—-

  
Halloween is one of Louis’ favourite days of the year, without a doubt.

Between the weather and the costumes and the candy ( _so much candy_ ), it just doesn’t get much better in Louis’ mind. Plus he loves having an actual legit excuse to scare the crap out of Liam and Zayn at every possible opportunity. Louis has spent every October 31st since he was a baby happier than he is the other 364 days of the year. 

The fact that he will be spending Halloween this year at Harry Styles’ house will not ruin this most glorious day for Louis. He’s still totally pissed about it though. 

Zayn, Liam and Louis show up at Harry’s an hour after he told them the party was set to start - they’re far too cool to actually show up on time. They look fairly ridiculous in their costumes, though, even Louis can admit. 

Liam, being the mad dorky fanboy that he is, decided on November 1st last year that he would be dressing as Batman for Halloween. He’s pretty obsessed. And Louis wants to make fun of him - he really does - but the thing is that Liam’s costume is extremely impressive. He spent at least two weeks pay on the damn thing. Zayn’s eyes had nearly popped out of his skull when Liam had stepped out of his bedroom an hour earlier, suit on, black face paint around his eyes and mask in his hand.

Zayn’s costume is less spectacular than Liam’s, but it’s Zayn, so he still looks awesome. His bright blue Superman suit is a little too big for him, but somehow instead of looking childish and stupid, it seems to look like a perfect fit. 

The costume was Liam’s idea, of course. He wanted Zayn to match him. He had spent a good half hour playing with Zayn’s hair to make it curl like Superman’s and everything. 

Louis is the third wheel in this situation, as he usually is around Zayn and Liam, so he opted to go a different route with his costume. He’d been feeling really good about his ensemble as the devil, complete with a red pitchfork he’d already stabbed Liam in the ass with seven times on the way to Harry’s. 

That is, until he stepped into Harry’s apartment and his gaze immediately landed on Harry and his white shirt, tutu and tights, fluffy halo and— yep, those are definitely angel wings.

Zayn, of course, immediately bursts into laughter. There’s also hysterical laughter coming from a Scooby Doo suit with a tuft of blonde hair sticking out of the head hole standing over near Harry. 

“Tommo. You two are totally matching.” Zayn says through his giggles.

“And you gave us such a hard time for being Batman and Superman!” Liam is practically beaming. Louis hates everything. 

“Did you plan this? Please tell me you didn’t plan this.” Zayn says, trying to regain his composure. 

“No, we didn’t _plan this_.” Louis says through gritted teeth, his cheeks burning. Harry’s spotted them now. And for fuck sake, _of course_ he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“You guys!” Harry and Scooby Doo, who Louis now recognises as Niall, approach the boys with broad grins. 

“Look at this, you two are matching!” Niall says to Louis, still laughing. 

“It actually kind of makes sense.” Liam adds as he strokes Harry’s feathery wings.

Louis really just wishes everyone would stop talking about it. 

Liam absconds with Niall and Harry almost immediately, insisting that he introduce him to all the girls with short skirts and plunging necklines. Zayn manages to spot some people he knows, and drags Louis along to talk to them with him, much to Louis’ chagrin. 

Louis’ favourite part of the party by far is the way that every time he gets near the end of a drink, someone gives him a new one. 

Zayn and Louis school some scrawny looking kids and some moderately attractive females at beer pong while Harry watches and cheers them on, as one would expect if they knew Harry. But after that, Zayn vanishes, and Louis can't see Niall or Liam anywhere - just Harry, sitting on the couch with his hair a mess and wet stains all down his white shirt. 

Louis finds himself dropping down on the couch next to Harry, getting smacked in the face a little by Harry’s wings as he does so. Harry shoots him a lopsided smile before returning to his conversation with the guy on his other side. They talk for a few more minutes, and Louis is really bored, but eventually, the guy leaves to get another drink, and Louis and Harry are alone on the couch. 

Louis looks around, and he’s feeling a little bit drunk already and a lot bit mischievous, and he just needs something to do. 

And then, genius strikes. 

“This party is getting a little dull, don’t you think?” Louis says, waggling his eyebrows at Harry a little.

“Thanks. You know this is _my_ party, right?” Harry frowns, though he’s smiling a little bit too. 

“I just mean… you know…” Louis gestures between a bowl of skittles sitting in front of them, and Liam, who is sat a few feet away talking to some girl Louis has never met. 

Harry seems to cotton on pretty quick, and he and Louis exchange mischievous glances before Louis reaches for the skittles. 

Harry takes the first shot, throwing a single green skittle at Liam’s head. Liam frowns, but doesn’t seem to think much of it, not even glancing in Louis and Harry’s direction. Louis giggles, taking his turn to throw first a yellow skittle, then a red one. They both hit Liam in the chest and land in his lap.

Liam stops mid sentence to look down at the skittles, then over at Louis and Harry, then back to the skittles. He glares at the boys for a long while, then returns his attention to the girl next to him.

Harry bursts into a fit of giggles, and Louis grins proudly, giving Harry a loud high five. He reaches for a purple skittle, but Harry stops him with a frown. 

“Not purple.” Harry says, and Louis looks at him with a mix of confusion and bewilderment. “They’re my favourite.”

Harry takes the purple skittle Louis was reaching for, plus a few others for good measure, and eats them.

“Ah, very impressive, Harold, but can you do this?” Louis smirks, reaching for a green skittle - his favourite. He throws it in the air and catches it in his mouth, earning an enthusiastic round of applause from Harry.

“Well done, Tomlinson, your skills are simply unparalleled.” Harry remarks with a smile. 

Zayn drops down in between the boys, drink in hand. His cape is tangled and draped over his shoulder, and his hair is a bit of a mess. 

“Zayn Malik, have you been fornicating?” Louis asks in mock horror. Harry giggles again. Zayn just rolls his eyes with a smile.

“No, I’ve been wrestling with Niall, actually.” Zayn answers, finishing off his drink in one mouthful. “Came over here to ask if you would please stop harassing Liam, you’re throwing him off his game. He hasn’t had sex in seven months, you know, he needs this.”

Louis tries not to laugh, really, he does, but he can’t help it. Poor Liam. 

“Well, in that case, if we can’t mess with Liam…” Louis gives a pointed look to Harry, which Harry returns. 

Harry begins untying Zayn’s shoelaces, and Louis is just pulling on Zayn’s arms, trying to get him to hit himself in the face. It’s been proven to be quite effective at annoying him in the past. 

“You boys are getting quite brave, aren’t you?” Zayn muses with a smirk. 

Say what you will about Harry Styles, but his willingness to please others makes him the perfect partner in crime. Louis is pretty sure there’s nothing he can’t get Harry to do with him. 

The ruckus is interrupted by Eleanor, who’s dressed as cat, complete with fluffy ears. Louis is entirely unsure of how she got invited, if he’s honest, considering she barely knows Harry. Then again, Harry is the kind of person to consider every single human he’s ever interacted with a friend. 

“’M going to find us some more rum.” Harry smiles, his lips red and wet. He uses Louis’ knee to help himself get up, and stumbles into the kitchen, Louis watching him as he does so. 

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Zayn mumbles, he too getting up off the couch and walking over to Liam. Undoubtedly to wingman the fuck out of him. He’ll probably end up unintentionally getting the girl to fall for him instead of Liam, but it’s the thought that counts, he supposes.

“C’mon.” Eleanor smiles, dragging on Louis’ hand. Louis doesn’t move from the couch.

“Nooo, ‘m comfy here.” Louis protests, but apparently Eleanor is stronger than she looks, because next thing he knows, he’s being hauled off the couch.

“Let’s go in here.” Eleanor suggests, leading Louis by the hand towards Harry’s spare bedroom. Louis doesn’t really feel like he has a say in the matter, but to be honest, getting away from all the people would be kind of nice right about now.

Eleanor leads Louis to the bed, the bed Louis once left drunk Niall passed out on, and they both sit themselves down. 

Everything is really hazy, Louis can’t feel his fingers, and he’s not entirely sure what’s happening.

“Let’s just take a nap.” Eleanor mutters, and Louis would really really like that. A nap sounds awesome right now. 

So Louis falls backwards on the bed, only half accidentally, and Eleanor lays herself next to him. They lay there for a while, and Louis feels El’s hand playing with the hem of his t-shirt, but he doesn’t comment on it. She shuffles closer, begins running her hand up and down Louis’ forearm. He can’t feel it, not really. Doesn’t feel much of anything, laying here with Eleanor.He just blinks up at the ceiling.

He wonders what Harry’s doing right now. 

Suddenly, almost as if his thoughts had conjured it, the bedroom door swings open, the sudden burst of light causing Louis to drop his arm over his eyes.

“So fucking bright.” He mumbles.

“Sorry Harry.” Eleanor giggles. Louis bolts upright. “We were just, um…”

“N-No, it’s okay.” Harry responds, the light coming from behind him illuminating the edges of his silhouette. He actually looks like a proper angel, Louis thinks.

He also looks really upset.

“I’m just, I was, um, I was looking for Louis…” Harry stutters, his voice trailing off towards the end of the sentence. He backs out of the doorway, and the door shuts behind him with a _bang_. 

Louis suddenly feels very sober, and finds himself clambering off the bed and pushing the door open again, stumbling into the living room. 

Harry's gone. Even in a room full of people, it doesn’t take Louis long to figure that out. 

What was he thinking, leaving the party like that? According to Louis’ iPhone, it’s 1:54AM, and the streets of New York at this time of the night are not even close to being safe for one person to wander by themselves, let alone someone as naive as Harry. And don’t ask Louis how he knows this, but Harry carries at least $100 cash on him at all times. He’s a walking target for a mugger, or a serial killer.

Louis scans the room some more and after a few moments, he spots Zayn, standing near the kitchen and making conversation with a pretty brunette girl that Louis doesn’t recognise. Louis makes a beeline for him and grabs him by the arm, not at all caring that the brunette glares at him and walks away. 

“Zayn, hey.” Louis says, steadying himself. “Harry’s gone, and he’s drunk and stupid and we can’t leave him wandering the streets of New York by himself at 2AM. I’m gonna go look for him, can you come with me?”

“Why did he leave?” Zayn draws his eyebrows together, and Louis just bites his lip and shrugs. Zayn’s face falls at this. “Oh no, Lou, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Louis protests, but Zayn just shakes his head. 

“Listen, you stay here, _I’ll_ go find Harry.” “I know how you are with him.”

Louis frowns at this. He’s not any sort of way with Harry - they just don’t get along most of the time. 

Zayn sighs. “Look, Louis, I know he gets on your nerves, for whatever reason. But he’s a good fucking kid.”

Louis can’t quite look Zayn in the eye all of a sudden.

“You’re drunk, and you’re kind of an asshole, and you’ve clearly upset Harry enough for one night.” Zayn continues, taking a pause to finish off his beer. “You stay here. I’ll go look for him.”

Louis looks to protest, but Zayn just pushes him down onto a couch. 

“I’ll go with Niall or something. You’re not coming, Lou, you’ve been enough of a dick for one night.”

Louis just sits in silence as Zayn walks away, pausing to explain the situation quietly to Niall before the two of them leave the apartment. 

Louis stares at the door for a few seconds after they leave. He feels blank. He feels numb. He’s kind of really drunk, too.

A few more minutes pass before Louis finally moves again, pulling his phone from his pocket and taking way longer than usual to type out a message to Zayn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _ Tell Harry I’m sorry. _

Louis spends much of the next twenty minutes sitting on the arm of the couch, wondering why it is that he feels sorry for what just happened.

(Zayn and Niall find Harry making friends with a homeless man ten minutes later, and by the time they return to the apartment, Liam and Louis have cleared everyone out and told them to fuck off. Harry says thank you and smiles at Louis with rid-rimmed eyes, but Louis still feels guilty. He really hates that.)

  
—-

  
"I'm sorry, you’ve _what?”_ Zayn raises his eyebrows comically high at Harry, who just blushes and shrugs sheepishly. 

“It’s not that big a deal, is it?” Harry bites his lip.

“You’ve never been outside of the Tri-State area, Harry, it’s kind of ridiculous!” Zayn says, with a small smile now. He’s teasing Harry, but it doesn’t seem that Harry has picked up on that yet. 

“Hey, I’ve been outside of the Tri-State area.” Harry protests, pouting as he leans back in his seat. “I’ve been to England, and Australia, and France—“

“Okay, we get it, Harry, you’re rich.” Louis rolls his eyes, taking a loud sip of his tea.

It’s 4PM on a Wednesday, and Zayn, Louis and Harry are very much enjoying drinking coffee and eating cake while Liam slaves away behind the counter of the cafe. Louis wasn’t entirely thrilled at the idea of Harry crashing their Louis-and-Zayn time, but Zayn and Harry have been weirdly close since Halloween, and Zayn had jumped at the chance to invite Harry along with them today. Apparently he’d missed Harry for the two weeks that Harry spent in Connecticut for Christmas and New Years. 

That annoys Louis a little bit. And no, he _definitely_ didn’t miss Harry, thank you very much. 

“What I said was,” Harry continues “that New York is first U.S state I’ve been to other than Connecticut.”

“Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.” Zayn shakes his head, leaning back against the wall behind him and Louis. “You’ve missed so many great life experiences.”

“Oh yeah,” Louis says, much too loudly and sarcastically. “you’re really missing out on all the amazing things that the great state of Ohio has to offer.”

“Hey, Ohio isn’t that bad.” Zayn pouts a little, and Louis just rolls his eyes. 

A silence creeps over the table, and it lasts a whole four seconds before Zayn’s face lights up.

“Oh, speaking of Ohio,” Zayn says suddenly. “my mom is moving house in a couple of weeks.”

Louis frowns at this. Zayn’s mom’s house is a tip, to put it nicely, but she’s lived there since Louis and Zayn were 15, and they’d had a lot of memories there. Zayn had received his first blow job in his bedroom in that house. 

His mom obviously doesn’t know about this and thus doesn’t appreciate the sentimental value behind it, so it’s pretty understandable that she’d want to sell the house and move on.

“I told her I’d go help her move all her stuff.” Zayn adds. 

“And that means I’m coming too.” Louis remarks, and Zayn just nods in response. If either Louis or Zayn went back home without the other, they would be murdered on sight. They’re as close with each other’s families as they are their own. 

“Say, Harry…” Zayn smirks, glancing over at Harry. “Feel like seeing all the amazing things that the great state of Ohio has to offer?”

And that’s how Liam, Zayn, Louis and Harry ended up at Zayn’s mom’s house in Ohio. 

It sounds like a cliche, but the house is smaller than Louis remembers it being. And that’s saying something, because even when he was a little teenager, it still seemed small. Like, small enough for Zayn’s sister Doniya to hear Zayn and Louis sneaking out one night and tell Zayn’s mom. Louis still hasn’t forgiven her for that. Bitch. 

Louis is perfectly happy to float around the house and pretend like he’s helping but really be eating a snack, but of course, Zayn and Harry tell Trisha that the four boys will do anything she needs. And of course, that involves sending them with a bunch of empty boxes and trash bags to the attic, of all places. 

The attic is exactly what Louis expected it to be, having never been in there before. It’s cluttered with all kinds of things, mostly baby-related things from when the Malik kids where younger that Trisha couldn’t bring herself to part with. 

The boys decide to divide and conquer, with Zayn taking the far corner that has tubs full of clothes and board games, Harry taking the area near the door with all the knick knacks, Liam sorting through the corner with lots of photo albums and scrapbooks, and Louis pretending to be putting all the trash into trash bags. 

They work for what feels like an eternity, and Louis is really hating it, but he can’t help but smile at the way Zayn lets out the occasional nostalgic “awww” as he comes across certain things. Louis isn’t finding much in the way of memories, but just being in this house is bringing back enough for him. 

Zayn and Louis had often preferred to hang out at Zayn’s place as teenagers, because while Louis’ sisters were adorable and worshipped Louis, they required a lot more responsibility and attention than Zayn’s sisters, who were mostly happy to go about doing their own thing.  

“Look what I found!” Liam sings suddenly, waving a photo in the air, and Harry practically trips over himself to run to Liam’s side.

“Oh my god!” Harry coos, and _fuck_ , this doesn’t sound good. 

Louis shuffles over to where Liam and Harry are huddled over the photo, and immediately snatches it out of their hands when he catches a glimpse of it. 

“Zayn! You kept this?!” Louis practically shrieks, embarrassingly so.

Zayn rushes over too now, and lets out a groan when he sees the photo.

“My mom must have. She loves this photo, god knows why. Fuck me.”

It’s a photo of Louis, Zayn and a third boy Louis recognises as Stan, a kid from Louis and Zayn’s elementary school whom they had been friends with before he moved to England. They’re about seven years old in the photo, and Louis has the most ridiculous bowl cut to ever exist. They’re standing in Zayn’s old living room, Louis wearing nothing but his underwear and what looks like a pirate vest, and Zayn and Stan wearing dresses. 

“What were you guys doing?” Liam giggles.

“Playing dress up.” Louis mumbles, folding the photo up and putting it in his pocket. 

“Who’s the other boy?” Harry asks with a grin, still trying not to laugh at what Louis’ sure is now burned into everyone’s memories. 

“His name’s Stan. We were friends with him in elementary school.” Zayn explains. “Well, I wasn’t really friends with him. Him and Louis were really close, though. Louis was obsessed with Stan, had a bit of a crush on him I think.”

Louis feels his cheeks flush. He punches Zayn in the arm.

“I did not have a crush on him.” Louis protests, making a mental note to burn that photo later. 

It’s true. Louis never had a crush on Stan; he was just a friend that Louis really liked spending time with - even more so than Zayn for a while. They’d gotten on really well and Stan laughed at Louis’ jokes and he always wore this green stripy t-shirt that Louis loved and he smelled like cinnamon cookies. 

Also Louis really hates the way Harry is smirking at him right now.

“Oh look at this. My first speeding fine!” Zayn chirps, much too happy considering that speeding fine got him grounded for two weeks and made him miss out on what Louis still considers one of the greatest house parties of all time. 

“He got it 5 days after getting his license.” Louis smirks at Zayn, and Liam and Harry giggle. They’re enjoying this a little too much, Louis thinks. But right now it’s at Zayn’s expense so he doesn’t care so much.

“Tease all you want, Tommo, at least I got my permit when I was sixteen, _unlike some people_.” Zayn shoots back, giving Louis a pointed look. Liam and Harry’s heads whip back to look at Louis with broad grins.

“How old were you when you got your license, Louis?” Liam is practically beaming. Louis rolls his eyes rather dramatically.

“I was seventeen, thank you very much _Zayn_.”

“You failed your test three times.”

“Have you quite finished?” Louis snaps, and the other three boys have dissolved into full on giggle fits now. Idiots, the lot of them. 

“How old were you lot when you got your licenses, then?” Louis asks, folding his arms across his chest.

“Got mine on my sixteenth birthday.” Liam says proudly. Of course he did. 

Harry, on the other hand, is suddenly very quiet.

Interesting.

“Harold…” Louis smirks. “When did you get your license?”

Harry starts fiddling with the zipper on his jacket, refusing to meet anyone’s eye. Oh, this is too good. 

“Harry…” Louis presses. Harry drops the zipper and glares at Louis for a few moments before relenting. 

“Alright, fine, okay, I never learned how to drive.”

“What?!” Liam squeals. 

“You never learned how to drive?” Louis repeats, and Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s not that big a deal, like, I had drivers my whole life.” Harry explains. Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes. “And then Niall had a car and had his license for when we wanted to sneak out or get away from the drivers. And now I live in New York. I never really like, needed to know how.”

There’s a brief silence and a few shared looks before Zayn, Liam and Louis suddenly start hysterically laughing. 

It lasts for a while, and Harry looks rather embarrassed, but it just seems so _ridiculous_.

“Knowing how to drive is sort of a necessary life skill, Harry.” Liam says once the laughter has died down. “You’re gonna need to know how to at some point or another.”

“Well, which of you is planning on teaching me then?” Harry raises his eyebrows, folding his arms across his chest. “Because I’m not going all the way out to my parents place in Connecticut just to ask them to teach me how to drive.”

“Shotgun not!” Zayn and Liam call in unison, and _for fuck sake_ , Louis is just a split second too late. Fuck fuck fuck. 

“Well then, hope you’re a good teacher, Louis!” Liam beams, clapping a hand down on Louis’ shoulder. 

Louis is not a good teacher. He’s easily distracted, he’s got very limited patience and his voice is not by any means calm or soothing. Liam would have been a million times better than Louis. 

But Louis respects the rules of shotgun. That doesn’t mean he can’t still be mad at Zayn and Liam when four hours later he finds himself in Doniya’s car (Zayn had to give her $50, but he claims it was totally worth it) with Harry Styles behind the wheel. 

Louis prays to the non-existent gods that he makes it through this experience alive. He’s only 22, he still has so much left to achieve. There’s a taco truck near his apartment that he still hasn’t tried. He’s never been to Vegas. Who will look after Bruce? Zayn and Liam already have two dogs, they aren’t legally allowed to have any more. 

The way that Harry is gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles isn’t making Louis feel any better about this situation. 

“Alright, so, hands at 10 and 2.” Louis instructs, and Harry’s hands immediately drop to the right positions. “Is the seat alright? Can you reach the pedals okay?” Harry nods. “You know which one is the accelerator and which is the brake?” Harry hesitates, then nods again. Well, that’s reassuring. “Right. So start the car, put it in drive, and we’ll go from there.”

Harry tries to do this well - really, Louis can tell he’s trying his hardest - but as he tries to take off, they jerk forward and Louis almost face plants into the dashboard. 

“Oops, sorry!” Harry winces.

“Goddammit, Styles, if you wanted to kill me you could’ve gone with something a little less painful!” Louis says, only half joking, and Harry immediately flushes bright red. He grips the steering wheel tighter.

“I’m sorry, Lou, really.” Harry says, and the car eases forward nicely this time. 

On Louis’ instruction, Harry makes his way down to the end of Zayn’s street and turns right. He takes the corner so slow it’s almost painful.

“Alright, that was good, but don’t be afraid to go faster than 10.” Louis quirks an eyebrow at Harry. “I’d like to get back to Zayn’s house before I die of old age.”

“Faster. Right.” Harry swallows hard, and the car begins to move a bit faster. 

“Turn left up here.” Louis instructs, and Harry takes the corner so wide and so fast that Louis finds himself gripping onto the door for dear life. “Bit slower than that please Harry!” 

“I’m sorry!” Harry’s voice is panicked and loud, so Louis reaches over and squeezes reassuringly on Harry’s thigh just above his knee. Harry looks up at him, eyes wide, and Louis smiles, eyebrows raised.

“Eyes on the road, Haz.” Harry’s eyes immediately dart back to the road in front of him, and Louis laughs a little. “It’s alright. Just relax.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” Harry asks.

“Just keep driving.” 

Harry does exactly that, though admittedly not well, and after a few more minutes, Louis instructs Harry to pull up to the curb in front of a small, white house. 

“Is this your house?” Harry asks. Louis nods.

“My mom’s house. She isn’t home, though. They’re all visiting my grandparents in Michigan.” Louis looks wistfully at the house through his window. 

Louis loves New York with every part of him, but this house will always be home. It’s where his sisters live, where he was raised, where he learned how to walk. Zayn’s family moved a few times during their childhood, but Louis’ family had always lived in this house. They moved in when Louis was a baby, and never left. None of Louis’ four sisters have ever lived anywhere else. This house holds more meaning and memories to Louis than any other place in the world. 

“That window on the far left, that’s my old bedroom.” Louis smiles at Harry over his shoulder. “It’s Lottie’s room now. She had to share with Fizzy when I lived there. Practically threw a party when I said I was moving out.”

Harry laughs softly, returning his gaze to the house. Louis does the same. 

“Anyway,” Louis announces, breaking the silence. “We should probably get back to Zayn’s. Don’t really know why I wanted us to come here. It’s a bit boring, I suppose.”

“It’s not boring at all.” Harry assures Louis with a small, meaningful smile. Louis stares at him for a moment before turning to face the front again. 

“Come on, Curly. Try not to murder me on the way home.”

The drive back to Zayn’s is pretty much the same as the drive to Louis’ had been - Harry is an absolutely terrible driver, just as Louis predicted. He even apologised to a gutter that he accidentally mounted. 

What Louis hadn’t predicted, however, is that Harry’s terrible driving makes Louis smile and laugh so much his face hurts. 

“Haven’t laughed that much in a while.” Louis comments to himself absent-mindedly as they pull up in Zayn’s driveway. “And you know what?”

Harry looks at Louis expectantly, a nervous smile playing on his lips.

“I feel like a have a new lease on life.” Louis says proudly. Harry starts to giggle. “Near death experiences do that to a person, I suppose. But I just… I appreciate the little things in life so much more now.”

“Oh, shut up. You loved it.” Harry retorts, patting Louis on the knee.

And if he keeps his hand there a little longer than he should, Louis pretends he doesn’t notice. 

  
—-

  
Valentine’s Day is actually the stupidest thing to ever exist, Louis thinks.

And no, it’s not because he’s been single every year on February 14th for his entire life. He’s not bitter. Louis thinks maybe one day when he’s old and weathered and settled down with someone, he’ll really enjoy doing romantic things for them. But for now, he’s single, and yet again it’s February 14th, and if Louis sees one more singing teddy bear holding a love heart he’s going to throw it at someone. 

New York is usually pretty romantic around this stupid holiday, but this year it just seems so much worse. Louis can’t figure out why, but all this love shit seems to be extra prominent this year. 

It doesn’t make it any better that for the entire day it’s seemed like the Valentine’s Day gods are out to get him. Like when he just wanted to watch TV, but every channel was playing a Valentine’s Day special of a series. Or like how he could hear his next door neighbour squealing because her boyfriend brought her a giant teddy bear (it’s fucking ridiculous, about as tall as Louis). Louis got out of his dinner shift at work so he wouldn’t have to see all this lovey dovey couple shit, but it’s practically following him.

Louis just wants to spend the rest of the day eating good food and playing PlayStation, so he decides to brave the stupid love-filled streets of New York to get take-out from Olive Garden, because he really likes their breadsticks. 

Louis knows he should probably put at least some effort into his appearance since he’s going out in public, but he’s already wearing a thick wooly sweater (the first he could find this morning) and his oldest jeans and he doesn’t want to give in to Valentine’s Day by changing in case he meets someone. Valentine’s Day is not allowed to win. 

Olive Garden is packed, of course, so Louis darts to the counter as quickly as he can to pick up his food. He’s all business, wanting to get in and out of the place as quickly as he can, but because today just fucking isn’t Louis’ day, his food isn’t ready yet, and he’ll have to wait a few minutes. 

He hovers near the counter, staring at his Vans and humming You’re The One That I Want quietly to himself, and he’s perfectly content to keep doing this until his food is ready. But then he hears a voice. That stupid, deep, slow-talking voice. 

“Erm, no, I’m still waiting. Thanks.” The voice says, to one of the waiters, Louis assumes, and though Louis wants to just pretend he never heard it, he finds himself turning around and walking over to the table for two, which Harry is sitting at by himself. 

“Louis.” Harry greets him, looking surprised. He’s wearing a thin grey sweater and the only pair of jeans he seems to own with his hair pushed back off his face a little, and goddammit Valentine’s Day, Louis suddenly regrets not changing or at least doing his hair before he left the house. He feels underdressed and sloppy standing in front of Harry.

“Haz. What are you doing here, just eating by yourself are we?” Louis asks, a smirk forming on his lips, but Harry doesn’t reciprocate the look. He glances quickly down at his shoes.

“Um. I’m… You know…” Harry gestures a little at the people, the _couples_ , surrounding them, and Louis feels his eyes widen as the pieces click together.  

“You’re on a date?” Louis asks with what he’s sure is a dumb look on his face. He and Harry just stare blankly at each other back and forward for a few seconds and Louis wants to melt into the ground. “I didn’t realise you were dating.”

Lame. It’s so lame and Louis can’t believe something so stupid come out of his own mouth.

“Well. I don’t think it’s technically a date if the other person doesn’t show up.” Harry sighs, looking down at his hands again. 

“Ah, yes, New York. Charming city.” Louis comments, but Harry doesn’t react. He just continues to sit there, looking down, lightly chewing on his bottom lip. Louis is overwhelmed with the sudden urge to give the kid a hug just to make things less uncomfortable. But he and Harry don’t do that, so Louis just sighs.

“How long have you been waiting? Maybe he’s still coming, just late or something.” Louis offers, shifting uncomfortably now. He wonders who the guy is that Harry’s waiting for. Does Harry have a type? Louis didn’t think Harry had hobbies outside of acting and being rich, so how did he meet this guy? Is this their first date? 

“I don’t think he’s coming, Louis, I’ve been sitting here for almost an hour. The wait staff aren’t happy with me.” Harry mumbles just loudly enough to be heard, interrupting Louis’ thoughts. Louis immediately softens.

“Sorry, Hazza. But it’s best the guy didn’t show up anyway because he’s clearly a complete cocksucker, not in the good way, and no one wants to go on a date with someone like that. Waste of your time.” Louis’ voice is soft, damn near comforting, and Harry looks up from his hands to give him a quick, appreciative smile.

“Thanks Louis. It’s just a bit, y’know.” He starts, wiping his eyes. “I’m new to the city and I don’t really have any friends here so, I was looking forward to spending the night with someone who actually wanted to talk to me and hear my silly stories.” 

Harry looks so down and miserable and Louis has never seen this side of him before. He doesn’t quite know how to handle it. The only Harry he’s ever known has been cheerful and happy and playful. Louis decides he definitely doesn’t like this version of Harry, and nobody should have to feel alone and rejected on Valentine’s Day (even if it is a stupid day) so he makes it his official responsibility to cheer the kid up. And if that means sitting with him for a while and making him feel a little less alone, so be it. 

So Louis quickly retrieves his now-ready food from the counter and drops himself down in the seat across from Harry. Harry looks up at Louis, eyes wide and mouth slack. He blinks a few times, like he’s waiting for something to happen. Either that or he can’t believe Louis actually just _chose_ to sit down next to him in a restaurant on Valentine’s Day. Louis can’t believe that part either, really, but hey, he’s a nice guy. Apparently. 

“So. First date on Valentine’s Day. You’re _that_ guy?” Louis asks jokingly, half to start up a conversation and half to make Harry smile again. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” Harry’s cheeks go a shade of pink, but then he eyes the take-out bag in Louis’ hand. “Eating take-out alone on Valentine’s Day. You’re _that_ guy?”

“Oh, the gloves come off!” Louis acts offended, and Harry smirks. “Living in the city has hardened you, Harold. I’m not sure I like it.”

Harry giggles now, and Louis almost breathes a sigh of relief. Mission complete. 

“What can I say, I’m maturing in my old age.” Harry smiles, his dimples on full display. Louis just stares at them for a moment.

“Old age? You’re not even legally allowed to drink yet.” Louis points out. “You know what, next time you get drunk I’m not taking you home or putting you to bed, I’m gonna call the police and report you.”

“Well then next time you get stoned with Zayn, I’ll report you.” Harry retorts, and Louis clutches his chest dramatically. 

“You would do that to Zayn? Get us both arrested, take him away from Liam? Liam never hurt anyone, he’s just a boy!” Louis’ voice is loud and dramatic enough now that people are starting to stare, but more important than that, Harry is leaning over the table laughing, his cheeks slightly red. 

“So, is this a date that daddy set up for you?” Louis asks once Harry’s laughter dies down. It’s intended as a joke, but Harry frowns, furrowing his brow. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend or anything.”

“No, I’m, I mean, no, it wasn’t set up by my dad. He wouldn’t…” Harry swallows hard, and Louis feels a touch of guilt for bringing up what is clearly a sore subject. 

“You and your dad don’t get along?” Louis asks gently. 

“He doesn’t exactly love that I moved to the city.” Harry explains, looking up from his hands, brow still furrowed.

“So why did you?”

“I just…” Harry chews on his lip, clearly thinking about what he’s going to say. “I’m really grateful for what my parents have done for me, you know? But like, I don’t want to be like Niall or my other friends. I love Niall, but he’s just like, coasting through life. I don’t want that. I want to live, I want to make something of myself, like, achieve things. By myself, on my own accord, because of things I’ve done and I’ve worked for.”

Louis stares at Harry, studying his face as he speaks, and honestly, he’s never had more respect for the kid. 

“That’s why I moved to New York. I always wanted to make it big as an actor. But, that’s not exactly working out the way I hoped.” Harry says, and Louis can’t help but smirk.

“Yeah, it’s not as glamorous as it seems, hey.”

“Not at all.” Harry continues, eyes widened a bit. “I want to make a career of it, though. I want to be able to support myself, without my parents’ help. Can’t really do that when I’m not making any money from acting.”

Louis wants to laugh at Harry’s naiveté, but it’s not the right time. Not only is Harry pouring his heart out to Louis, he’s revealing that he’s more deserving of respect and time than most people Louis knows. He’s not the person Louis thought he was, and that’s only a good thing.

“Why don’t you get a job?” Louis suggests, and Harry draws his eyebrows together, like this is the first time he’s considered it. “Like a real, proper job. Well, not a proper one, but as a waiter or something. That’s what I do.”

Harry winces.

“I don’t think I’m graceful enough to be a waiter.” He pouts a little, and, yeah, he’s right, that would only end in disaster. 

Louis ponders this for a moment before pulling out his phone and opening Google. 

“What are you doing?” Harry asks, leaning over in an attempt to see the screen.

“I think there was…” Louis scrolls through his search results until he sees what he was looking for. “There it is. There’s a bakery near my place that’s hiring at the moment. I saw it on my way to work yesterday.”

He gives Harry the phone so he can see the ad, and a broad smile stretches across his face as he reads the screen.

“Bakery. I could handle that. Serving people, selling bread.” Harry hands Louis’ phone back to him, but he quickly frowns. “But there’s no way I could afford my apartment on that sort of pay.”

Louis shrugs.

“Don’t give up the apartment.” He says simply. “Just work at the bakery or wherever to get your savings up, y’know, your own money, and keep letting your parents pay your rent until you can afford it yourself. They don’t need to know you’re working to get out from under them.”

Harry’s demeanour seems brighter again, and he looks sort of like he wants to reach over and hug Louis.

“I could do that. That’s a really good idea, actually. Thanks, Lou.” He beams. “You’re really smart, you know.”

Louis snorts at this. Louis has been called smart exactly one time in his life, and that was when he made Zayn a bong from a water bottle he found lying around when Liam hid Zayn’s proper one. Louis knows he has a bit going for him, without being arrogant, but intelligence was never one of those things. Just ask any of his old school teachers. They’d just roll their eyes at the first mention of the name “Louis Tomlinson”. 

“I’m being serious.” Harry frowns. “You should give yourself a little more credit. You shouldn’t just accept what other people think of you.”

Louis takes a moment to think about this, think about the weight of the statement. He feels guilty for judging Harry now. The kid has probably had to deal with that his whole life, with his dad being in the spotlight and him being gay and all. It can’t have been easy. Louis doesn't even want to think about it, really. 

“Moving to New York was the first decision I’ve ever made to actually create some sort of life and future for myself.” Louis admits quietly, eyes dropping to the table. “It seemed stupid at the time. Everyone thought it was stupid. But, it’s not working out too bad, I guess.”

He looks up at Harry, and they hold each other’s gaze for a few moments before Louis swallows hard and looks down at the table again.

“I mean, I’m no movie star. Not even close. Which sucks… Ever since I was a kid it’s all I wanted. I just loved entertaining people.”

Louis hears Harry laugh a little at this. Not a mocking laugh, more like a ‘yeah, that doesn’t surprise me one bit’ kind of laugh. 

“I just love the way it feels. Knowing people are having fun because of me. They’re all watching me.” Louis shakes his head. “Maybe one of these days, I’ll make a living of it. But even if I don’t, it’s still fun. Plus, there’s other options.”

“Other options?” Harry prompts.

“Writing. Producing. I mean, it’s not as glamorous as acting, being the star. But I dunno… it’s always interested me.” Louis hasn’t even talked about this to Zayn yet, so he has absolutely no idea why he’s telling Harry. He just is. “It’s still in the industry, still entertaining people and making them laugh and cry and that. Just a little easier to get into.”

“Maybe one day you’ll get to do both.” Harry smiles as Louis meets his eye. He smiles back, shaking his head.

“You certainly are an optimist, Styles.”

“Maybe. But I believe you can do it.” Harry says, so earnestly it almost makes Louis uncomfortable. If it was anyone else, maybe. Louis doesn’t feel uncomfortable, though. “I believe in your talent, in you.”

There’s definitely more to Harry Styles than meets the eye, Louis decides. He feels kind of privileged to know that now. 

And, yeah, okay, maybe Harry and Louis are actually friends. `

  
—-  
  
  
“You spent Valentine’s Day. With Harry Styles. At Olive Garden?” Zayn smirks, stuffing a dollar bill in Charity’s thong and for fuck sake Louis regrets ever telling him. 

“So?” Louis’ face flushes, embarrassed. “You spent it with Liam!”

Liam mumbles something in response from his seat a few feet away, but Louis and Zayn just laugh it off. Liam is clearly stuck somewhere between so uncomfortable he wants to bolt out the door, and so entranced he can’t look away from Buffy, who is grinding on a pole on the stage in front of them. Either way, Liam can barely speak. 

“Liam and I are life partners, Louis.” Zayn explains with a shrug, like it’s already common knowledge to Louis. It sort of is, really. Charity grinds down on Zayn’s crotch, and Louis does’t miss the way Zayn bites down on his lip and pushes his hips upwards.

It’s a Thursday night, so FlashDancers isn’t that busy, but it’s busy enough that they’ve got some good girls on. Zayn likes to time his trips to the strip club perfectly. Louis would rather not be spending his money on overpriced beer and tips for girls he’s barely even looking at, to be honest. But yet, here they are. Louis thinks Zayn is incredibly lucky to have him as a best friend.

“Doesn’t matter that I was with Harry.” Louis shrugs, almost desperate to explain himself. “You know I don’t care about Valentine’s Day.” 

“That’s not true.” Zayn objects, Charity’s breasts now at his eye level. Louis is amazed Zayn is able to have a conversation right now. “Remember, what, fourth grade? You made that girl Lily a card and asked her to be your Valentine and she said no and you cried about it?”

“Why do I tell you things ever?” Louis grumbles, earning a giggle from Zayn. “You’re the worst.”

“Hey, be nice to Zayn.” Charity chimes in, and Louis rolls his eyes. Zayn’s so charming even the strippers love him. Of course. Zayn hands her what looks like a ten for her efforts. 

“Yeah, be nice to Zayn.” Zayn pouts at Louis. “It’s not my fault you’re a hopeless romantic.”

“I’m not—“

“You _are_.” Zayn interrupts. “You just hate a lot of people so you barely ever find someone to be romantic with.”

Louis ponders this for a moment, thinking about how he’d never taken Eleanor on dates or held her hand when they were together. Maybe it wasn’t because Louis wasn’t a romantic. Maybe it’s because he just didn’t like Eleanor enough.

Goddammit, Louis hates when Zayn is right.

“Either way, bro, point is that it’s probably not fair that you went on a date with the guy when he clearly has a crush on you.”

“On Valentine’s Day.” Liam chimes in, eyes still glued to Buffy. Louis had almost forgotten he was here.

“On _Valentine’s Day_.” Zayn repeats, shaking his head. “That’s romantic as hell. The poor kid probably thinks he has a chance with you.”

Louis doesn’t respond to this. He doesn’t know what to say, really. He had not for one second thought of it like that - like he was leading Harry on and that Harry was getting the wrong idea.

Louis is straight. He likes girls. Harry knows that. 

Charity finishes up her lap dance with Zayn and raises an eyebrow at Louis, but Louis shakes his head and smiles politely.

“Dude, really?” Zayn asks incredulously. Louis waves him off and mumbles something that is definitely gibberish. 

“Not in the mood.” Louis comments eventually, and Zayn shakes his head in disbelief.

“That’s alright.” Zayn sighs happily. “I think it’s Big Payno’s turn, Charity.”

Zayn gives Charity a fifty, and Liam leans back in his chair with wide eyes as Charity struts over to straddle him.

“They don’t call him _Big_ Payno for nothing!” Louis chimes in with a smirk. Zayn bursts out laughing. “Get it, Daddy!” 

Liam’s cheeks flush a deep red as he flips Louis and Zayn off behind Charity’s back. It just makes the boys laugh more, as per usual.

“C’mere” Zayn says, running one hand through his hair and pulling his phone out of his pocket with the other. He shifts closer to Louis.

“Uh Z, I don’t think you’re supposed to take pictures in a strip club.” Louis frowns.

“It’s a selfie, it’s different.” Zayn retorts, now right next to Louis.

“Why are we taking a strip club selfie, Zayn?” Louis shoots his best friend an incredulous look. Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing they’d ever done, though.

“Sending it to Niall.” Zayn mumbles as he opens the camera app. 

“Niall, like, Harry’s friend Niall?” Louis’ eyebrows shoot up, but Zayn doesn’t seem to be paying much attention. 

“How many other Niall’s do you know?” Zayn responds before quickly pouting and taking a photo. Louis frowns. He wasn’t ready. 

“Why are you sending Niall Horan a strip club selfie of us?” Louis asks, making sure to pull a face this time before Zayn takes another photo. Louis has heard Zayn and Liam mention Niall’s name a few times since their drunken adventure at Harry’s and the Halloween party, but that’s it. He didn’t realise the other boys even kept in contact with him.  

Zayn swipes through the couple of photos they took, and decides on the one where Zayn is pouting and Louis is crossing his eyes. Zayn looks like a model, and Louis looks like a spastic. Of course. Louis just manages to catch the caption Zayn writes under it before he presses send. 

 

 

 

> _ vas happenin strip club !!! _

“He’ll love it.” Zayn says, smiling.

“He does strike me as the strip-club-loving type.” Louis comments absent-mindedly, smirking as he glances over at Liam. The poor kid looks ready to pass out.

“He wrote back.” Zayn chirps a moment later, showing Louis his phone screen. “‘hahahaha! that’s sick bro! wish i was there’. Love that kid. God bless Harry for bringing him into our lives.”

“Yes, god bless the angel that is Harry Edward Styles.” Louis says half-sarcastically.

Zayn slowly turns his head, a big smirk on his lips as he gives Louis a pointed look.

“ _Edward_? You know his middle name?” Zayn’s smiling so much his eyes are crinkling and Louis wants to push him off his chair. 

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, I didn’t know Harry’s middle name. Liam, did you know Harry’s middle name?” 

Liam makes a noise that Louis assumes is a negative response and Zayn tilts his head at Louis.

“I think you and Harry are bestest fwends.” Zayn giggles.

“Shut the fuck up.” Louis laughs it off, reaching over to punch Zayn in the thigh. 

Zayn spends the better part of the next hour making everything Louis says about Harry somehow, and Louis sort of hates him. But also it’s Zayn, so really, he loves him to bits.

  
—-

  
Louis never likes being woken from a nap. Ever. Being an actor as well as working as a busboy, he doesn’t get to sleep much, and most of the time when he does, he’s woken every half hour by Bruce’s loud snoring from the end of his bed. So napping on his couch in the light of the sun streaming through his window on a warm Tuesday afternoon is not exactly the ideal time for Louis to be awoken by his vibrating cell phone. He wants to throw it out the window and watch it shatter or maybe hit a random pedestrian for disturbing him, but he doesn’t really want to waste money he doesn’t have on another new phone. 

 

 

 

> **202-555-0141**  
>  iMessage

Louis lazily unlocks his phone, expecting maybe a random chick from the bar (unlikely) or a crazy obsessed fan (even more unlikely) that would lighten his now-crabby mood. 

 

 

 

> _ Hiiii. Do you know what today is? _
> 
> _ I’m napping, I have no time for  
>  riddles. Who is this? _
> 
> _ Take a random guess :) _
> 
> _ I got nothing. Although I can _   
>  _assure you that whoever_   
>  _you are, I no longer like you_   
>  _for disturbing my sleep. Who_   
>  _are you?_
> 
> _ It’s Harry, idiot! I got your _   
>  _number from Liam. And if you’re_   
>  _really napping right now you have_   
>  _no excuse to not get your ass up_   
>  _and come over to my place._
> 
> _ You have no say in what me  
>  and my ass do on my days off.  _
> 
> _ Whatever. You know it’s your  
>  birthday right?  _
> 
> _ That explains the hooker orgy  
>  in my bedroom... _
> 
> _ Smartass.  _
> 
> _ Again with the ass business. _   
>  _If I didn’t know better I’d think_   
>  _you were just using me for my_   
>  _body Harold_
> 
> _ Happy birthday, you boner. Do  
>  you want your present or not? _
> 
> _ Bring it to me. I’m lazy and sleepy. _
> 
> _ Last time I went to your place I _   
>  _got lost on the way there and_   
>  _a scary pigeon chased me :( Just_   
>  _come over._

Louis doesn’t want to go all the way over to Harry’s apartment, but the promise of a present and the awesome hotdog cart Louis knows is on the way there there gives him enough incentive to get up and drag himself down the stairs and out of his apartment (not before checking his reflection to see if he looks okay first, which he’ll totally deny doing if anyone asks).

He doesn’t even bother knocking on the door when he gets to Harry’s apartment once he realised it’s unlocked; they’ve spent enough time together now that there isn’t a lot he could be doing that Louis hasn’t already seen. Harry is apparently a very free spirit. Louis has seen him practically naked, even if he pretends he wasn’t looking. 

Harry’s standing in the middle of the living room, wearing a shirt with too many buttons undone that reveals some small tattoos on Harry’s chest that Louis hadn’t seen when Harry was drunk and shirtless and slung over Louis’ shoulder. He’s beginning to think there’s a lot about Harry he is yet to see.  
  
“This better be good, Curly.” Louis says as way of greeting, and Harry beams at him, hands behind his back. “Everyone knows how much I love my nap time.”

“It’s good. I think. I mean, I’m not sure. Just, um, here! Happy birthday!” Harry thrusts a small, neatly wrapped box into Louis’ hands. The wrapping paper has tiny love hearts and dinosaurs all over it, and Louis lets out a small, breathy laugh in spite of himself, because it’s just so _Harry_. 

Louis opens the box, and his mouth falls open when he sees what’s inside. A watch. A _Rolex fucking watch_ , to be exact, and although Louis knows this would have been no skin off Harry’s nose cost-wise with all his parents’ money, it would have cost as much as Louis’ rent for a month or two. No one’s ever bought Louis a present this nice before, and Louis can barely stop staring at it.

Louis looks up just in time to see Harry’s face fall. It’s completely depressing.

“You hate it.” Harry says quietly.

“No, no, I don’t it’s amazing.” Louis starts, taking the watch out of the box to inspect it further. “I just don’t get it.”

“It’s a watch, Louis. It tells time.” Harry explains patiently, reaching out to help Louis put the watch on his wrist. Louis backs away a little, shaking his head.

“No, I don’t get why you got it for me.” Louis meets Harry’s eye, his throat feeling a little dry and his chest a little tight. “We’re only barely friends, and I haven’t exactly been nice to you, and, wait, how did you even know it was my birthday?”

“Facebook. It’s 2012, Louis.” Harry replies simply with a dopey smile.

Louis shakes his head quickly. “Forget about that. Haz, why did you get this for me? Not even Zayn gets me birthday presents these days. He just buys me a six pack and sometimes gives me a hug.”

Harry hesitates, clearly nervous now as he starts fidgeting his hands and staring at the floor between them. 

“Well that’s the thing.” Harry starts, voice shaky.

“The thing? What thing?” Louis prompts him, placing the watch down on the coffee table.

“The other reason I wanted you to come over today.” Harry clearly has something important to say, and Louis is very much scared of what it could be, because Harry hasn’t been nervous around him or anyone in a long time.  


Harry shoves his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans, and starts talking, “It’s no secret that I like guys. I like girls too, I guess, but I’ve always been more into boys. That I’ve always been honest about. I’ve never questioned it, or been ashamed of it, or wanted to hide it. And, lately, I’ve been feeling that way about... how I feel about you.”  
  
Wait, _what_?  
  
Harry takes a few steps closer, closing the gap between them and looking Louis dead in the eye.  
  
“You can’t deny it, Lou. This chemistry, this connection we have... You can’t pretend you don’t notice it too.”

Louis remains silent, too shocked to speak and Harry seems to take this as an invitation to continue what Louis is sure is a rehearsed speech.

“I’ve wanted this... For so long. And I can’t keep it in any longer, I can’t pretend it’s not there. Because it is, and I like you, so much that you, your stupid sarcastic comments and your floppy hair and the way you smile, you consume most of my thoughts.” Harry takes a pause, a deep breath, and Louis scans his face for any sign that he’s kidding. But, deep down, he knows Harry’s serious. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”  


“Stop.” Louis takes a step away from Harry, refusing to meet his gaze. “Just stop.”  
  
“Lou, please don’t pretend you don’t like me too. I know you do. I know you don’t think you’re gay, and I know it’s hard, but, you have to face up to who you are.” Harry’s deep voice is honest, reassuring, but it doesn’t help. At all.

“Look Haz, I’m not… I mean, FUCK!” Harry’s lamp shatters all over the floor and Louis throws himself onto the couch, his head spinning. 

_This isn’t happening._

He only stays on the couch for a few seconds before jumping back up again and resuming pacing. “I don’t know, okay! We’re only just friends, and I come over here and and and you give me a really expensive watch?! And just start talking about this chemistry bullshit and, I’m fucking straight. I’m fucking straight, and I don’t like guys.” Louis hates the way it sounded like he’s trying to convince himself of something.  
  
“Louis, calm down, please, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Harry takes another step closer, his big eyes pleading with Louis.  
  
“No. No, because I don’t fall in love. I don’t get in relationships, I don’t have girlfriends, and I don’t have boyfriends.”

This can’t be happening. It’s not possible. Sure, Louis has never been head over heels in love with a girl before, but he finds them attractive. Just because he’s not overly affectionate to them, doesn’t make him gay. He’s not gay. He can’t be gay. 

But he sees Harry, sees his big adorable green eyes, his infectious smile, his dimples, his ridiculous hair, and, that alone makes Harry different. Louis never notices these things. He’s not even entirely sure what eye colour _he_ has. But with Harry, he’s memorised every detail, every tiny quirk and flaw, like he’s known the guy forever. 

“Louis. Please. Listen to me.” Louis notices Harry’s chest is heaving underneath his shirt, and Louis isn’t sure whether it’s because he’s so worked up or maybe Louis makes Harry as nervous and Harry makes him. He almost runs to Louis, grabbing his shoulders and staring down at him, like he can see straight to his soul, and Louis realises that nobody’s ever looked at him like that before. “Don’t brush me off. I’m worth more than that.”

Louis has never seen Harry like this before. Serious. Almost grovelling. The fact that Harry’s allowing himself to be this open with him takes any logical thought out of Louis’ head, and he can’t think of anything to say. No witty remark, no sharp insult, nothing.  


If he was honest, Louis would admit that something had been there between him and Harry for more than a little while - probably since the first time they made eye contact. He would man up and own the fact that Harry’s kind nature and clumsiness and optimism are super endearing, and that he’s one of the most attractive people Louis has ever seen. He would accept that Harry isn’t just a friend and never has been. 

But he doesn’t have time to admit shit, because Harry’s kissing him. Harry’s fucking kissing him, he’s not just standing uncomfortably close anymore, he’s not just near him, he’s _kissing_ him. And Louis could fight back, but he doesn’t. He just, doesn’t. 

It feels too fucking right to fight back. 

When Harry finally moves away, they hold each others gaze for a few moments. There’s something, an energy, a feeling somewhat like an emotional tether than keeps Louis from pushing him away or denying the truth he’s been ignoring ever since he met Harry. He can’t deny it anymore. 

But he can run. 

And that’s exactly what he does. Louis turns around, hastily walking out the front door, leaving Harry, the watch, and Harry’s broken heart behind it.

  
—-

  
It’s been two weeks since Harry kissed Louis.

That’s Louis’ story anyway, what he tells himself when he can’t sleep at night. That _Harry_ kissed _Louis_. Louis and Harry didn’t kiss, but Harry. Kissed Louis. 

But the more important point that Louis is choosing to entirely ignore is the fact that he’s _thinking_ about _Harry_ and the way that Harry kissed him every night, and it’s causing him serious sleep deprivation. 

That’s not to say that it doesn’t interfere with his daytime thoughts too, because it definitely does. Every thought he has gets brought back to Harry and their kiss - _Harry_ ’s kiss -somehow. It’s like his brain has a way to make every single thought about Harry. Not to mention he has to see Harry on a regular basis, after all, at rehearsal and during shows. And it’s apparently very, very hard to ignore someone when your job physically forces you to talk to and interact with them. 

Louis is trying his darndest, though. He’s sitting in the shitty audience seats of the theatre now, having come up with some excuse about having a cold and saving his voice to get out of standing anywhere near Harry, and rehearsal is almost finished. For everyone else, anyway. 

Louis notices a movement out of the corner of his eye, and the chair to his left creaks as someone drops into it. Shit.

“Hey, Tommo.” Liam says, slightly hesitantly. He’s been a lot easier to avoid than Zayn these last two weeks, and the fact that he’s showing up randomly at rehearsals means he’s picked up on the sudden shunning. 

“Liam.” Louis replies quietly before clearing his throat. _Confidence, Louis, you stupid fuck. Nothing happened. You didn’t do anything._

“Haven’t seen much of you lately.” Liam says, but Louis knows it’s less of a statement and more of a question. A question Louis totally does not want to answer.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy. Dealing with family stuff. Bruce has been sick.” Lies. It’s all lies, and Louis feels his stomach eating away at itself. He hates lying to his friends, especially Liam, who’s always so honest and open. 

But just in case lying to Liam wasn’t killing Louis enough, the cruel gods of fate decide that now is time for rehearsal to finish, and thus Louis now has Zayn sitting down on the other side of him and Harry staring directly at him from the stage. Not that Louis’ looking at Harry - he’s now intensely focused on playing with the hem of his t-shirt. 

“Lou, decided to show up today I see.” Zayn greets Louis with a smirk. 

“I’ve never not showed up to rehearsal.” Louis mumbles in response, and Zayn throws an arm around the back of Louis’ chair. 

“But you didn’t show up to lunch yesterday. And you haven’t shown up at our place for like, two weeks now. You’ve become a hard man to track down.”

“I’ve been busy.” Louis repeats, but Zayn clearly isn’t buying it.

“You’re such an enigma, Tommo.” Zayn shakes his head now, retracting his arm from around Louis’ seat. 

Louis looks up to see that Harry is still standing on the stage, staring straight at Louis. Louis should look away, should avoid all eye contact like he has been since Harry kissed Louis, but something stops him. It feels like his heart is in his throat and he can’t breathe. 

Like always, Harry doesn’t look away when he notices Louis looking back at him. Instead, his eyebrows draw together slightly, his mouth twitching, and after a few more moments of staring, Harry looks at the ground, biting his lip as he practically runs out of the theatre. Louis’ stomach drops, and his hand twitches on the arm of his chair.

The boys stand up on either side of Louis now, probably ready to leave soon, still talking amongst themselves, but Louis stays seated for a few more minutes, staring at the seat in front of him, paralysed to any rational thought or action. 

Zayn is saying something about the three boys having drinks together later, and Liam’s chattering excitedly in response, but their voices sound distant and quiet. Louis can only focus on the way his heart is beating loudly and fast, faster by the second, and his stomach is doing backflips. 

“I’ve gotta go.” Louis suddenly blurts, shooting out of his seat and practically shoving Liam out of the way to get past him. 

He runs up the stairs and out the theatre door, looking down the street both ways before making for the subway station. It’s five blocks away, and he runs the whole way there. If he thinks about it, Vans and skinny jeans aren’t really ideal for running, but he’ll have to make it work. 

Louis hasn’t run like this in years, and he feels every step of it. His lungs are burning and he feels sweat building on his forehead and the back of his neck when he gets to the subway, and he practically flings himself onto the train, scaring the living crap out of an elderly man holding a newspaper. 

“Running late?” The man asks, looking Louis up and down. Louis shakes his head, gasping for breath. 

“You have no idea” is all Louis can manage to say, grinning back at the man, who merely raises his eyebrows and returns to reading his paper. Louis responds by bending over, hands on his knees as he tries to find his breath.

The subway seems to take forever to get to 23rd Street station, but as soon as it does, Louis is back running again. Running five blocks was hard enough, and where he’s going is even further, so Louis tries to pace himself, keeping at more of a jog than a run. 

When he reaches a familiar looking brown building, he practically skids to a stop at the shiny, fancy looking black front door with “303” above it in cast iron numbers. He presses on as many intercom buttons as he can until someone lets him in the door, and pushes through it without a second thought. 

Louis is still not really thinking when he comes to a stop at the door, but his body has a mind of it’s own and his hand is knocking before his brain gets a chance to catch up. He blames that for what happens when Harry Styles swings the door open from the other side.

“You’re the most beautiful human being I’ve ever met.” Louis blurts, his breath still heaving from all the running ( _So much running_ ). Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s really fucking nervous. “You’re nice to everyone, even people who don’t deserve it. And people like that don’t exist, not in New York, not in my life. You’re like a unicorn.”

Harry just stares at Louis wide-eyed, his cheeks a slight tinge of pink, so Louis decides to continue. All or nothing, that’s the saying, right?

“You make me laugh, even if sometimes it’s just from being so clumsy. You have patience with me. You see me as more than a troublemaker who can’t amount to anything. You see me as the person that I want to be. The last two weeks, not talking to you and avoiding you, has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and to be honest, I’ve completely lost sight of why I ever bothered trying, Harry.”

He takes a step closer to Harry, who still has one hand on the door knob.

“Harry.” He repeats, close enough to smell the other boy’s cologne.

“Louis.” Harry whispers, and Louis gets even closer now. 

“Harry.” Louis whispers back, finally closing the distance between their mouths. 

Harry kisses him back, his mouth opening when Louis’ tongue pushes against it. One of Louis’ hands finds it’s way into Harry’s curls, and the other grips his hip. This startles Harry into moving his own hands, and suddenly Louis has one of Harry’s large hands on each side of his neck. They kiss for what feels like forever yet only seconds at the same time, and it’s nothing like it was the first time. This time it feels like everything Louis has ever wanted.

When they finally separate, Harry’s lips are wet and impossibly red, and he still looks slightly dazed from the whole thing, causing Louis to giggle. 

“You okay, Curly?” Louis smiles, and Harry just nods dumbly.

“Think so.” Harry manages, a smile appearing on his own face now. 

“I’m really sorry, Haz.” Louis says quietly now, a wave of seriousness washing over him. He has been a right dick to Harry lately and in no way did Harry deserve it.

“It’s okay.” Harry smiles. “It’s a hard thing to come to terms with, I know.”

Louis’ chest tightens suddenly, and he looks down at the ground. 

“I’m not gay, at least, I don’t think I am, I dunno.” Louis starts, as he takes Harry’s hand into his own. “And you drive me crazy most of the time. You’re loud, and sort of weird, and a little spoiled.”

Harry draws his eyebrows together with a small smile.

“I’m not very good at this.” Louis admits, shaking his head as he stares at the floor. “I used up any charm I had on that little speech before.”

“I’ve noticed.” Harry responds, unable to take his eyes off Louis’ smiling lips.

“But... I like you. I’m not entirely sure what... this... is. But...”  
  
Harry nods, understanding, and kisses Louis again, lightly this time.  
  
“I like you too.”

Louis smiles widely at Harry, but his smile falters after a few moments.

“Harry,” he starts, throat drying at the idea of admitting, even to Harry, that this is something he wants. “I don’t,” he shakes his head and clenches his eyes tightly shut in frustration. 

He wants to be with Harry, wants to kiss him like this every day and fall asleep with him every night, wants to know everything there is to know about him. He really and truly does. But the thought of telling Zayn and Liam and his mom and sisters that he he’s dating a _boy_ …

“Lou, who knows you better than me?” Louis can honestly say that they both know the answer to that question. “I’m not gonna out you. I know you’re not ready.”  
  
Louis thinks about it for a few moments before focusing his attention on the beautiful boy in front of him. “I wasn’t gay. I mean, maybe I was, but I never really questioned my sexuality one way or the other. Until you put the idea in my head.” Louis hits Harry lightly, playfully, a smirk tugging at his lips.  
  
“So you’re saying you, what, caught the gay from me?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Gay is some kind of disease, and I contracted it from spending too much time with you.” Louis reaches up and smacks Harry across the head, eliciting a giggle from Harry.  
  
“Louis I’ve seen the pictures from when you were young. You had a Leonardo DiCaprio poster next to your bed, I’m pretty sure you were always gay.”  
  
“Hey! Leo is the greatest actor of his generation” Louis pouts, fiddling with the hem of Harry’s t-shirt.

Harry ignores Louis’s comment, smiling at him a little before continuing, “Look, I’m not asking you for anything more than just, like, _this_ , okay? I like you. I think you’ve always known that. And you like me. I’m fine with hanging out with you in the proverbial closet until you’re ready to come out of it.”  


“Really?” Louis’ shock is probably coming from the fact that he’s only ever slept with girls before, and they have that incessant need for commitment and a fully fledged relationship that Louis was never ready to give them.   
  
“It’s nobody’s business anyway,” Harry shrugs, and Louis thinks maybe Harry is a little more incredible than he ever gave the kid credit for after all.

  
—-

  
Today, Harry is wearing a t-shirt that says _Love is Equal._ Louis can’t decide whether to kiss him or run away from him. 

Because really, when two guys around the same age are walking through the park together with a dog and one of them is wearing a t-shirt that says _Love is Equal_ , it’s more than fucking obvious that they’re a gay couple. And Louis isn’t quite ready for the world to know that yet. 

But Harry looks lovely, and it’s making him smile real big and he’s so cute and Louis just can’t bear to upset him. So he just smiles back and pretends as if this is entirely ordinary. 

Even Bruce looks happy, trotting along slightly in front of them with what Louis is sure is a smile on his face. That could be because he’s getting a walk, but Louis’ pretty sure it’s because he absolutely adores Harry, and any time Harry’s around he’s automatically in a good mood (that makes two of them).  

“I think it’s gonna rain.” Harry comments absent-mindedly, glancing up at the sky. 

“Not a chance. Hasn’t rained in weeks.” Louis replies, waving him off. 

“I hope it does rain.” Harry smiles, dimples on full display. “Then we can go home and get all snuggled up and watch a movie, take a nap.”

The sky is looking pretty dark, but Louis is too proud to admit he’s wrong.

“God, that would be lovely.” Louis smiles back, reaching over to brush a bit of fluff from Harry’s shirt. His hand lingers on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry leans his face down to nuzzle against it, like a cat. Louis can’t help but giggle as he pulls his hand away before putting it back in his pocket. 

“Louis!” A familiar voice calls from behind them, and a brief wave of confusion turns into sheer panic as Louis realises who it belongs to. 

“Who’s that?” Harry asks, turning around. Louis whacks his arm furiously for this. 

“Lou!” The voice calls again, and for fuck sake, Louis’ not getting out of this one now. Harry’s already waving at her. Typical Harry. 

“Why are you waving, you don’t even know her?” Louis whispers aggressively.

“She seems nice. And she’s calling your name.” Harry shrugs.

“Jade, hey.” Louis plasters a big, fake smile on his face as she approaches, and even from a distance he can see her eyes dart from Louis, to Harry, to Bruce, to Harry’s fucking t-shirt, and back to Louis again. 

Jade stops a few feet in front of them and smiles expectantly at Louis.

“Harry, this is Jade, Eleanor’s best friend.” Louis says, putting the slightest bit of emphasis on the last words - not enough to tip off Jade, but just enough to alert Harry as to why this situation just became immensely fucking awkward. “Jade, Harry.”

“Hi.” Harry smiles, giving a quick side glance to Louis. He awkwardly crosses his arms across his chest, partially covering the words printed on it, and Louis has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. _Of course_ this had to happen today. 

“How’ve you been?” Louis asks politely.

“Not bad, just same old, really.” Jade replies, just as politely. Louis catches her eyeing Harry up and down. This whole situation could not be more awkward. “What about you, what have you been up to?”

“Just the play, really. Last show is in a week and a bit.” Louis smiles. “Harry’s in the play too, that’s how we met. How we, you know, know each other.”

Jade nods slowly. “Cool.”

There’s an awkward silence, and Bruce keeps tugging on the lead. Harry’s arm looks like it’s about to get torn out of its socket.

_Me too, buddy_ , Louis thinks, giving Bruce a sympathetic look.

“Are you guys, like…” Jade cocks an eyebrow at Louis and Harry. “you know, together?”

Holy fucking shit.

“Together?” Louis stutters. “No, no, we’re just friends.”

“Oh.” Jade raises her eyebrows. She looks genuinely taken aback. “Oh! Um, sorry, I just. I was just curious.”

“No,” Louis laughs, and Harry lets out a forced sounding laugh too. It’s cringeworthy. Louis wants to whack him. “No, just friends.”

“Right. Well. Anyway, I’d better get going. I’ll see you around, Louis.” Jade smiles, giving the boys a wave. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Well, that was sufficiently awkward.” Louis mutters once she’s out of earshot.

“Why haven’t I met her before?” Harry asks as they both watch Jade walk away.

“She’s friends with Danielle and Perrie, Zayn and Liam’s exes, so we don’t see her anymore.” Louis explains, and Harry gives him a look. 

“And she’s Eleanor’s best friend?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, you guys really worked your way through that group, didn’t you?” Harry asks with a cheeky smirk. Louis reaches out to smack him, but Harry catches his hand.

Before Louis gets a chance to retort, he feels a drop on his head. And all of a sudden, out of nowhere, like something out of a movie, the rain is completely pouring down. 

“Fuck!” Louis exclaims as he feels his entire body from head to toe getting absolutely drenched. 

“I told you!” Harry calls, just loud enough to be heard over the rain.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, let’s just get home!” 

Harry picks Bruce up off the ground, and he and Louis begin running for the street. The rain is absolutely bucketing down, soaking everything in sight. Bruce barks as a loud clap of thunder echoes around them, and Louis can see out of the corner of his eye that Harry, bless him, is giving the dog a soothing pat on the neck. 

After ten solid minutes of running, they finally make it to Louis’ place. Their t-shirts are sticking to their skin, hair plastered to their foreheads, and Louis’ jeans are so heavy they’re weighing down his legs. 

“Fuck me.” Louis breathes. They’re both trying to get their breath back, creating little puddles where they stand on the floorboards. “Alright, I’ll get us some towels.”

“I think I’m gonna give Bruce a bath, he stinks like wet dog.” Harry comments as Louis walks towards the linen cupboard. 

“Funny how that happens.” Louis calls, and he can’t see, but he’s sure Harry is sticking his tongue out at him right about now. 

Louis enters the bathroom a moment later, towel drying his hair, to find Harry, sans jeans, sitting on the edge of the bath with Bruce standing in the shallow bath water. Bruce doesn’t look impressed, and Louis can’t help but laugh. 

Harry turns at the noise, and gives Louis a big smile. Louis’ own smile falters at this, as he stares at Harry smiling back at him, because honestly, he feels like he’s just been hit in the face. He’s suddenly overwhelmed, hit by an indescribable wave of feelings he can’t even begin to organise into logical thoughts or words. 

Harry is positively glowing. The most beautiful person Louis has ever met, without a shadow of a doubt. Louis just wants to march over there and start kissing him, but he’s just started lathering up Bruce’s fur with dog shampoo, so it’ll have to wait.

“Do you wanna smell like coconut, Brucey?” Harry sings, his voice high-pitched like he’s talking to a baby. “You don’t have a choice!”

Louis grins, not just a normal grin, but the kind of grin where his eyes crinkle and you can practically see the fondness dripping off him. This is probably one of the most endearing and adorable things Louis has ever seen, and he has absolutely no idea how he went so long denying how much he liked Harry.

But then Harry tenses his arms a certain way, and Louis can’t help but stare at how Harry’s white t-shirt is clinging to him. Water is dripping from Harry’s long curls, from his lips, his face looks intense as he concentrates on what he’s doing, and, Jesus, Louis has to tear his eyes away and look at the floor before he gets too carried away. Louis may be new to this whole being-attracted-to-guys thing, but he's entirely sure that's whats happening here.

Harry and Bruce finish up shortly after that, and after a quick towel dry, Harry places the dog on the tiled bathroom floor.

“All done, baby!” Harry chirps, wet locks of hair hanging in his eyes as he pats Bruce on the head. 

“Okay, there you go, Brucey.” Louis mumbles, his breath hitched in his throat as he nearly trips over himself to usher Bruce out of the bathroom and into the living room. 

Louis grabs Harry’s hand, squeezing tightly as he drags him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them before Bruce gets a chance to follow. 

“Lou, wha—“ Harry doesn't get to finish his question, because Louis is pushing him against his bedroom wall, and finally, _finally_ , Louis’ tongue is in Harry’s mouth, his hands are tangled in his curls and Louis is pressed up against Harry’s wet body as close as physically possible.

Harry doesn’t react at first, apparently shocked by the situation, but it isn’t long before his tongue is flicking against Louis’ and his hands find their way to Louis’ ass. Harry and Louis have made out before, like a lot, and they’ve sucked each other off, sure, but Louis doesn’t remember the last time he was this sexually frustrated. He wants to rip off Harry’s clothes and ravish him, finally take the last step in their relationship.

So that’s exactly what he’s going to do, Louis decides as he grabs at Harry’s soaking wet t-shirt, fumbling as he pulls it over Harry’s head.

“Fuck, Harry.” Louis whispers before pressing his lips to Harry’s damp neck. Harry moans at the touch, and Louis can feel his whole body twitch with excitement. 

Louis’ lips travel down Harry’s chest, stopping to lick at Harry’s nipples and kissing every possible inch of skin on his stomach. 

“Lou,” Harry breathes, now grabbing Louis by the shirt and pulling him up. He plants a passionate, desperate kiss to Louis’ lips before pushing him backwards, stumbling as they both drop down to the bed.

Harry lays on top of Louis now, and _god_ , Louis can feel Harry’s erection though his jeans. It rubs hard, shit so hard, against Louis’ hips and Louis pushes his hips up a little, eliciting a moan from Harry. 

Louis bites down on Harry’s bottom lip hard and flips them over so he’s on top now. Being on the bottom gave him little control and right now all he wants is to dominate the younger boy, to make him scream Louis’ name until his voice is hoarse. 

Harry’s big hands reach in between their bodies, finding their way to Louis’ waistband. He starts to fumble with the button and zipper, so Louis sits himself up, tearing his lips away from Harry’s just long enough to take off his shirt and undo his zipper. He kicks off his jeans and soon enough, Harry and Louis are kissing again, this time both in nothing but their underwear.

The thin material may as well not even be there, and Louis can feel the wetness of Harry’s jocks where there’s precome. Louis wants to lick it all off, but right now he’s too focused on sucking a hickey onto the soft skin on Harry’s neck. Harry bucks his hips up, his erection rubbing against Louis’ when he does so. Louis moans and bites down on Harry’s neck. 

“Want me to suck you off?” Harry whispers, and _god, yes_ , Louis would love that. But he shakes his head.

“Not now, babe.” Louis’ hand reaches down between their bodies to palm at Harry’s erection. “I just want to fuck you.” 

“God, Lou, you’re killing me.” Harry groans, bucking his hips up once again. That’s enough for Louis now, and in record time his and Harry’s underpants are both on the floor and they’re completely naked. 

Louis’ lips find Harry’s again, his tongue going deep into Harry’s mouth, but Harry pulls away a little.

“Do you have any lube?” Harry asks, his breath ragged, and Louis jumps a little. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course, sorry.”

Louis leans over Harry, opening the second drawer of his nightstand and puling out a condom and a small bottle of lube. He’d bought it a few days ago, positive he’d have a use for it soon enough from the effect Harry seemed to have on him. 

After rolling on the condom, he opens the cap and looks to squeeze some on his hands, but Harry stops him, placing his hands over Louis’.

“Let me.” Harry whispers, and Louis can only stare as Harry pours the lube into his own hands before taking Louis’ erection into his grasp, slowly and gently running his large hands along Louis’ increasingly hard cock. Louis shuts his eyes, and he feels his legs twitching at the long awaited touch. 

“God, Harry.” Louis mumbles as Harry removes his hands and drops back down to the bed. He spreads his legs a little wider this time, and it starts to dawn on Louis that soon enough he will actually be having sex with Harry for the first time. 

“Do I need to, you know…” Louis reaches down, rubbing against Harry’s hole with his index finger. Harry hitches his hips upwards, eyes fluttering shut - fuck, it’s beautiful - but shakes his head no. 

“Should be fine.” Harry breathes. 

“You’re the first guy I’ve ever even kissed. I’ve never had to deal with…” Louis’ voice trails off, resorting to gesturing from his hands and dick to Harry’s ass to demonstrate his point. Harry leans up, gently kissing Louis on the lips and rubbing gently on the back of his neck where his hair meets his skin. 

“Hey. Breathe, Lou. It’s gonna be okay.” Harry smiles dopily, reassuringly, and Louis decides he never wants this day to end. 

Harry lays back down on the bed and grabs Louis’ hips, gently pulling him forward until Louis’ wet tip is just slightly nudging against Harry’s hole. 

Louis is fucking nervous, but he thinks it’s more than understandable. He’s had sex before - a fair few times, actually - but putting your dick in a random girls box for the sake of getting yourself off is very _very_ different to putting your dick in Harry Styles’ ass because you physically can’t stand another minute without being inside him. 

“God, Lou, please.” Harry begs, and that is more than enough motivation for Louis. He pushes hard against Harry’s hole, feels it stretching around him as he enters, and nearly comes on the spot with the way Harry moans. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , he can’t come now, not this quickly. 

“Jesus Christ, babe.” Louis groans, feeling waves of pleasure wash over him as he pulls out and thrusts back in again before working himself up to move a bit faster. Harry’s eyes have fluttered shut again, and his right hand is stroking his own cock and he’s biting his lip and Louis has never been so aroused in his entire fucking life.

They get into a pretty great rhythm after that, Louis thrusting into Harry faster and harder and deeper as time passes, Harry’s jerking on his own cock becoming erratic, and after a short time he cries out loudly.

“Fuck, Lou!” Harry moans, and Louis may be a gay-sex virgin but he knows enough about sex to know that he just hit Harry’s prostate. That only makes Louis more energised, his thrusting becoming even more vigorous now. He braces himself with his hands on Harry’s biceps after a while, sweat forming on his forehead as he feels himself coming closer. 

“God, Harry, I’m close.” He breathes, and Harry nods, eyes shut. 

“Me too, Jesus fucking Christ.” 

Louis watches as Harry’s hand tightens around his dick, pumping faster and faster and Louis can’t take it anymore. He feels pleasure shooting through his cock as he comes inside Harry, but after the last few slow thrusts, he stays inside him. 

“Nearly there, Lou.” Harry whimpers, and Louis, despite feeling completely wrecked, reaches down, replacing Harry’s hand with his own as he starts jerking on Harry’s cock, feeling how hard it is under his grasp until a few moments later, his hand and Harry’s stomach are covered in Harry’s come. 

Louis pulls out of Harry shortly after that, Harry whimpering quietly as he does so, and he finds himself with just enough energy to drop to the bed next to Harry, sweat-covered hair sticking to his forehead. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Louis mumbles, and Harry lets out a small giggle in response before giving Louis a gentle kiss.

To say Louis is spent is an understatement, so the next few minutes are a complete blur to him, but he does remember falling asleep with his face pressed into in a mess of soft, curly locks. 

  
—-

  
Liam holds his beer up and gives his friends a warm, goofy smile that lasts a few long moments. Then it falters, and his hand drops a little.

“What are we toasting to?” Liam frowns.

Niall and Louis groan in unison, and Zayn just laughs. 

“How about we toast to the fact that tonight was _the last night of mine and Harry and Zayn’s play?_ ” Louis almost snaps, completely teasingly of course.

In Liam’s defence, they’ve been at the bar for about three hours now, and Liam’s more than likely pretty wasted. 

“Oh right.” Liam’s cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. He raises his beer again, and this time the other four boys do the same. “To the play! You boys did one hell of a job.”

“To the play!” They repeat in unison before bringing their drinks to their lips. Louis almost downs his in one go. He’s _celebrating_ , thank you very much.

“It was the best play I’ve ever been in.” Harry smiles warmly at Louis, but Louis is too amused by the stupidity of that comment to reciprocate. 

“One, it was the only play you’ve ever been in.” Louis starts. “Two, it was actually dreadful. If it wasn’t for our stellar acting, that thing would’ve tanked. Winston is the worst director ever.”

“I agree, I only saw this one showing, but I had no idea what was going on pretty much the entire time.” Niall laughs. Louis would be offended, but Niall has a point. Also he made the trip all the way from Connecticut just to watch one showing of their shitty play, so he can’t be too mad at him. 

“I meant because it’s how I met you guys.” Harry protests with a pout, and the other boys start a chorus of ‘awwww Harry’s. 

“Shut up.” Harry mumbles, ducking away from Niall, who is now mussing up Harry’s hair. “You know what, it was a nice moment, and you boys ruined it.”

“So, what now?” Niall asks after finishing off his pint, leaning back on his seat with a sigh.

“We could go back to my place?” Louis offers, only after getting a nod from Harry that signals that he cleaned up Louis’ dishes and jocks before they left.

“I meant like, what are you guys gonna do now?” Niall laughs. “Has anyone got any other plays coming up? I could come watch, I’m bored _a lot_.”

A silence falls over the table as Louis looks at Harry, Harry glances from Louis to Zayn, Zayn just stares blankly at Niall and Liam’s eyes go wide. 

“Well,” Harry starts slowly, “I’ve just started at a bakery. I’m actually really enjoying it.”

Niall raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed, as he takes another sip of his bear. No one else says anything.

“But, um, no acting jobs lined up.” Harry finishes, and Louis just stares at the way he rubs his hand down his glass, catching the water droplets with his thumbs. 

“What about you, Zeebo?” Niall asks, trying to sound enthusiastic, but Louis can tell that Niall completely regrets even bringing this topic up.

“I’ve commissioned some of my stuff. Paintings.” Zayn nods. “That’ll keep me in the apartment and able to afford food for a while longer.”

“Nice!” Harry comments quietly, and Niall reaches over the table to give Zayn a fist bump. 

“I’ve been on a few auditions,” Liam admits, hanging his head. “but, um, haven’t heard anything back.”

The silence has returned, and Louis wants to start messing with Niall just to break the tension. But he’s too busy staring blankly at Harry’s hands.

“I’m thinking about getting into music, maybe?” Liam squeaks, and the other boys look up, their interest peaked. “Like, producing or something? I dunno it’s a long shot. But it’s something I’d like to do. If the acting thing doesn’t work out.”

Liam’s cheeks are flushed at this recent admission, so Louis can tell that he sincerely appreciates the way that Zayn throws an arm around his shoulders and shoots him a grin.

“I think you’d be great at that, Li.” Zayn says warmly, and Liam tucks his head into Zayn’s neck a little.

Suddenly, all the boys are trying not to stare at Louis, though it’s not really working. Louis can feel them all looking at him, waiting for him to add his piece to the conversation.

If he’s honest, Louis hadn’t really thought much about what was going to happen next. He’d looked into getting an agent before this play, but it wasn’t any cheaper now than it was when he first moved to the city and he still couldn’t afford it. No opportunities had presented themselves, and Louis had enjoyed living in the few-week-long bubble of the play and Harry to remember that he actually had a future beyond that. 

“I, uh… I don’t have anything… lined up, either.” Louis starts, scratching the back of his neck. He can feel his cheeks flushing. “I figured I’ll just up my hours at the restaurant until I find something.”

Harry smiles reassuringly and squeezes his knee under the table, but it doesn’t do anything to lift the mood. Louis has sufficiently depressed everyone even further with the lack of promising opportunity in his life. 

They sit in silence for a bit longer, though the rest of the bar is adequately noisy, and eventually, the mood starts to lift again when Niall asks Zayn about his tattoos, poking at and running his fingers over the different coloured inks on Zayn’s arms.

“Oh yeah!” Louis blurts out, startling Harry. He’s more than excited to steer this conversation even further away from it’s previous topic. “I got a new tattoo.”

Louis doesn’t miss the way Harry sits up further in his seat and smiles at this. 

Louis reaches up to the neckline of his t-shirt and pulls it down, dragging at it in certain spots so the boys can read what the lettering across his chest says. 

“It is what it is.” Niall reads out loud, and Zayn nods, impressed.

“Nice.” He smirks, reaching across the table to pull on Louis’ neckline some more. “Why’d you get it?”

Louis immediately tenses up. Stupidly enough, he hadn’t really accounted for anyone asking him that. 

“It’s just a tattoo. Nice saying.” Louis says with a smirk playing on his lips. “It is what it is, Zayn.”

The tattoo is Harry related, of course, but Zayn definitely does not need to know that.

“I got one too!” Harry pipes up, a big, adorable grin stretching across his face. 

Everyone turns their attention to Harry now, but Zayn frowns a little first.

“You went together?” Zayn asks, glancing back at Louis quickly. Louis feels like he’s about to shit himself. He doesn’t know what to say. Zayn isn’t saying anything either. An eternity seems to pass. Louis thinks everyone may die of old age soon. He knows. Zayn’s figured it out and Louis can’t think of a damn thing to say to defend himself. This is the worst day ever in the history of days. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Zayn says after what Louis thinks is literally forever. “I would’ve come too and got myself another one.”

Louis lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and Zayn looks back to Harry as the curly headed boy begins pushing up his sleeves. A small star with a thick, black outline sits on his bicep.

“It’s a star!” Harry says simply with a bright smile. 

“Why a star?” Niall asks, reaching out to touch it briefly. Louis is starting to realise that Niall is a very handsy person. He’s not sure he likes it.

“Because I am a star!” Harry says proudly with a smirk, and everyone bursts out laughing. 

Though the mood has been sufficiently lifted now, the boys are all pretty grateful to take Louis up on his offer of moving the party to his place, and it’s 2:30AM by the time they all crash through the front door, startling Bruce. 

Somewhere between Liam ripping Louis’ bathroom door off it’s hinges (which Louis will totally kill him for in the morning) and Niall holding Bruce in the air and singing Circle of Life, Louis falls asleep with his head in Harry’s lap and a huge smile plastered to his face. 

  
—-

  
“Where do you want to be in five years time?”

Louis looks up at Harry with a frown, but Harry’s just looking at his shoes. Louis isn’t entirely sure that Harry even said anything. 

But then he repeats it, “Lou? Where do you want to be in five years?”

It catches Louis completely off guard. Harry hasn’t said much in the last five minutes, just watched with a small smile as the tattoo artist shades in the compass on Louis’ arm. It’s pointing to ‘home’ - well, it’s pointing to Harry. Figuratively and literally, at this point in time, given where Harry’s sitting. 

“I dunno,” Louis starts. “I mean, I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Really?” Harry frowns. “Why not?”

“I mean… I dunno, I’ve never really been one to think about the future I guess.” Louis sighs, the feeling of the needle in his skin almost completely unnoticeable now. He’s used to it, really. “Best way to not be disappointed with what you achieve.”

Harry contemplates this for a moment, and a silence falls between the two of them.

“That’s really depressing.” Harry notes after a while, and he and Louis both start laughing. 

“Try keep still, Louis.” The tattooist says, and Louis presses his lips together and tries to steady himself.

“Sorry.” Harry says with a small giggle. 

“Well, give me some ideas, Haz. Where do you see yourself in five years?” Louis asks, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of the compass. He’s probably got about half an our left in the chair by the looks of things. 

“Hmmm…” Harry stretches his legs out, and Louis notes the way he absent-mindedly runs his fingertips along the dressing on his arm covering his newest tattoo. A ship. “Well. I’d like to be a well-known actor. Doing movies or something.”

A fond smile stretches over Louis’ face at this. Harry’s always so optimistic, and Louis admires him so much for it. 

“I’d be 25.” Harry notes. “I’d like to own my own house, like with my own money. Maybe two houses.”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, babe.” Louis says with a quiet chuckle.

“You never know what’s going to happen.” Harry protests. “This is an ideal fantasy situation by the way.”

“Oh, well, if that’s what we’re doing, I’d like to be ruler of the free world.” Louis says with heavy sarcasm. 

“Shut up.” Harry laughs. “What about you then? Realistically, of course.”

Louis hums for a moment, then begins clicking his tongue. He honestly hasn’t given it that much thought. He never thought he’d achieve much, so he never liked to set high standards for himself.

Five years ago from today, when Louis was 18 and just graduated high school, he’d never thought he’d one day be an actor in New York covered in tattoos and dating a _boy_. That more than anything is proof that guessing where Louis’ life will lead him over five years is futile, and that anything he wants to achieve now will more than likely not happen. 

But ever since he started dating Harry, he’s felt more… secure. More strong. Like things weren’t so haphazard. It’s a feeling Louis can’t really explain, but he feels like maybe going in the direction he wants to go is a bit more achievable now.

“Five years. I’d like to be a serious actor by then. Be making an actual living from it, so I don’t have to work as a busboy or anything on the side.” Louis takes another pause, and Harry nods contentedly. 

“I’ll be 28. Fuck, that’s old.” Louis shakes his head. “I suppose that’s old enough to be settled down and that.”

“Settled down?” Harry raises his eyebrows inquisitively, a smile playing on his lips. 

“Yeah, you know, maybe another dog, maybe some kids.” Louis mumbles. 

“Kids?” Harry repeats with a surprised smile.

“Is there an echo in here?” Louis teases, and Harry smirks at him. 

“I just didn’t know you were the type to want kids.”

“May I just point out that your future plans had nothing to do with your personal life, so you shouldn’t be teasing me about this.” Louis says, his tone light-hearted as he smiles at Harry. 

“I wanted to see what you’d say first.” Harry replies with a happy sigh. “But I’ve always wanted kids.”

Louis’ eyes are fixed on the compass, but a smile breaks out across his face. _Of course_ Harry’s always wanted kids. He’d be the most natural parent ever, now that Louis thinks about it (not like he hasn’t thought about it before… Harry chasing after a litter of kids in football jerseys with ‘Tomlinson’ written on the back…). 

“I’d like to be living with my boyfriend.” Harry adds, almost as an afterthought, and Louis almost gets whiplash from the way his head snaps up to look at Harry. 

“Your… your what?” Louis bites his lip, feeling the corners of his mouth twitching. 

“My boyfriend.” Harry says quietly, looking up to meet Louis’ eyes. 

It’s the first time either of them has said that word, or put a label on what they are. 

“You called me your boyfriend.” A full on grin breaks out over Louis’ face now, and he feels like his face might split in half. He doesn’t even care that they’re in public, and that another person is definitely hearing everything they say. 

Louis had no idea how hearing that word would feel until it actually happened. He didn’t really expect for it to mean this much to him. 

Louis has been a boyfriend before, obviously. He’s had two girlfriends - Hannah and Eleanor. He’d been called “boyfriend” dozens of times, but this was the first time it actually made Louis _feel_ something when he heard it. It meant something, it’s not just a word thrown around between him and some girl he has half-hearted feelings for. 

Everything means more with Harry. 

“Sorry to interrupt, boys.” The tattooist says, breaking Louis’ train of thought. “But you’re getting tattoos of _a ship and a compass_. I think it’s pretty obvious that you’re boyfriends.”

  
—-

  
Contrary to popular belief, Louis Tomlinson can be a very committed individual, and a perfect boyfriend, if he’s in the right relationship. 

That being said, Louis being perfect is a lot different to the recognised definition of perfect.   
  
Louis’ apartment is disheveled at best; Although Harry’s apartment itself is eternally clean, and though he tries to keep Louis’ the same way, he doesn’t quite spend enough time there to stop Louis from throwing his shit absolutely everywhere. So it’s completely normal at this stage for Louis to be sitting in his pyjamas on his living room floor by a dirty pair of Harry’s boxers and a mound of video games while playing Fifa at 1am.  

“Bad news. There’s a rumour that the new Batman movie is getting delayed.”

  
“You know I shoot messengers.” Louis doesn’t look up from the TV, but a broad smile stretches across his stubbled face when a pizza box is dropped on the coffee table next to his head.  
  
“I come bearing gifts.” Harry just barely touches his lips to the top of Louis’s head before Louis’s smacks him away, dragging Harry down next to him on the floor by his arm to give him a proper kiss, long and slow in a way that makes Louis smile against Harry’s lips. 

“How was your day, my dear?” Louis asks, moving his attention back to the game. 

“Oh, I had a good day. It was really busy at the bakery but me and Helen killed it.” Harry responds, and Louis grins, because he can hear the smile in Harry’s voice. The bakery may be a part time and short term job, and it’s nothing glamorous but Harry loves it almost as much as he loves acting. 

“Look at my baby, a working man now.” Louis smirks and Harry swats at his chest with his hand. “You ought to be buying me expensive and lavish gifts, you know, Harold.”

“Don’t ruin the surprise!” Harry says in a mocking tone. “The Ferrari was going to be delivered tomorrow.”

“Well I guess now’s a better time than any to tell you I’m more of a Porsche man.” Louis replies. His game is over now (he won, obviously), so Harry gets his full attention. 

“It’s like I don’t know you at all.” Harry replies, and Louis smiles at this, because the truth is, if anyone knows Louis, it’s Harry. And Zayn, but, Zayn hasn’t seen Louis naked, so it’s different. 

“Shit, I forgot,” Harry starts, rubbing his head with his hands. “Are you going to the store tomorrow? I’m almost out of that hair wash that smells good.”

“You wash your hair. This is new.” Louis smirks, kissing Harry’s cheek to make up for the snarky comment. Harry just smiles back and gives Louis a look that Louis knows means he’ll be paying for that later. So Louis just grins even wider.

“I’ll pick some up for you on my way home from work. I finish at four.” Louis gets up to head to the bathroom, and starts singing rather loudly, “Working haaaard for the money!”

Harry laughs quietly and shakes his head from his place on the living room floor as he picks up a newspaper, and Louis can’t help but smile. The boy does things to Louis, like make him smile against his will. He makes him _happy_ , and damn, Louis’s never been truly happy before. Not like this. 

“Not this shit again.” Harry mumbles to himself, just loud enough to peak Louis’s interest. 

“What’s up?” Louis calls as he flushes the toilet. Leaving the seat up definitely ranked in Louis’s top ten favourite things about being in a homosexual relationship.

“I can’t believe it’s 2013 and people are still against gay marriage. Or any kind of marriage. I mean, it’s so narrow minded to believe that only a certain group of people should be allowed to legally be known as couple.” Harry shakes his head as he looks at a photo of protesters in the newspaper, and Louis drops onto the floor next to him with a sigh. Sometimes Louis forgets that Harry is so out and proud.

“So, why don’t you do something about it?” Louis suggests, taking Harry’s free hand in his own.

Harry snorts in response, “Since when were you gung-ho gay rights?”

“I’m just saying, this kinda stuff upsets you so much, why not take action?” Louis shrugs, trying not to look at the hate messages written on the picket signs in the newspaper.

“You’d be okay with that?” Harry raises an eyebrow at Louis. He obviously knows Louis well enough to be surprised by such a suggestion.

“Whatever makes you happy, Haz.” Louis smiles, giving Harry a quick peck on the cheek.

“I struggle to believe you’d actually do that for me.”

Louis’s smile drops, and he shoots Harry a sidewards glance. “No. No, I wouldn’t be doing anything. We’re talking about _you_ taking a stand here, not me.”

“But if I’m gonna go out there and talk about everyone being able to love whoever they want to love, I’m not going to contradict myself and pretend I’m not happy in a serious relationship. I’m not an asshole.” Harry frowns, turns his body so he’s further away from Louis, and Louis immediately wants to back track.

“Well, that’s yet to be determined.” Louis replies as a way of avoiding the subject. He can see that Harry isn’t fooled. But Harry knows better than to continue to prod at an issue Louis isn’t comfortable with, so, for what feels like the millionth time, he stays silent as Louis changes the subject.

_  
—-_

  
Louis and Harry have been spending almost all their time at Louis’ apartment since they started dating. It’s not that Harry’s apartment isn’t amazing and comfortable and beautiful - because, duh, it obviously is. But Harry’s apartment has never been home for Harry, and if Louis is honest, he feels out of place when he’s there. And as much as Harry enjoys cleaning up after Louis and being domestic, Louis feels like he can’t make a mess at Harry’s apartment, and he hates that. Mess is necessary, Louis thinks. It’s not home without a pair of dirty socks on the floor and script pages all over the kitchen counter.  

It’s a casual, standard Saturday afternoon at Louis’, with Harry standing at the counter chopping vegetables for dinner (which he knows Louis will make a fuss about eating) while Louis sits on the couch, pretending to watch the news but really focusing on playing fetch with Bruce. Something about the way Brucey’s back legs struggle to run as fast as his front legs as he almost crashes into something every time Louis’ throws the ball is just way more amusing than hearing about the economy, or politics, or, whatever it is the newsreader is talking about. 

“Hey, did you hear back about that audition you went for last week?” Harry asks. Louis really doesn’t want to tell Harry that yes he did, and no he didn’t get the part, so an unexpected knock at the door is something Louis is very thankful for.

What he’s not thankful for, however, is what is waiting for him when he gets up off the couch and opens the front door, Bruce at his side. 

An older man, about 50, Louis guesses, frowns at him, eyeing Louis up and down disapprovingly. The man is slightly overweight and wearing a pale blue dress shirt with black slacks and shoes that Louis is sure are worth more than everything he owns combined. Louis, dressed in a white tank top, a maroon beanie and black sweat pants, thinks the guy looks like everything Louis hates about people combined into one slightly sweaty, angry looking old douchebag.

“May we help you?” Louis folds his arm across his chest, tattoos peaking out from everywhere, but the man isn’t looking at him anymore.

“Dad?” Harry says quietly, and Louis hears the sound of a knife being dropped on the floor behind him.

Shit.

“Harry. Lovely to see you.” The man responds in a way that suggests quite the opposite. He pushes past Louis, walking into the apartment followed by a very attractive woman, who is dressed in a modest pastel green dress and looks tired but much kinder than Harry’s father, and a younger girl, about Louis’ age, who is wearing a sweater and jeans and looks completely bored by the whole situation.

“Mum, Gemma. What are you guys doing here?” Harry stares at them all, wide-eyed and startled, while Louis just stares at Harry. 

“What, we need an excuse to visit our only son?” Harry’s mom smiles, tight lipped, before gazing around the apartment. 

“Well, no, but I’ve lived in New York for over a year and this is the first time you’ve visited me.” Harry responds, and Louis doesn’t miss the way Harry pulls down the sleeves on his sweater to cover his tattoos. The tattoos he got with Louis. 

“Hey Harry, you gonna introduce us to your friend, or…?” Gemma asks, eyeing Louis with a smirk. Harry’s parents are still looking around the apartment with a look on their faces almost identical to that of Liam’s when he found a mouldy tomato at the back of Louis’ fridge one time.

“Right, right.” Harry looks completely flustered, his cheeks going a slight tinge of red as he takes a step closer to Louis.

“This is Louis. Louis, this is my mom, Anne, my sister Gemma, and…” Harry clears his throat, but his dad still continues to look anywhere but at the two of them. “My father. Desmond Styles.”

Louis holds his hand out to shake Harry’s dad’s hand, but it goes unnoticed by the older man, who is most definitely judging the shit out of Louis’ place. Bruce grumbles quietly at Desmond, and Louis knows he wants to bark at him. 

Louis feels completely fucking awkward, to say the least. He’s never met the parents of anyone he’s dated before, let alone the parents of his secret boyfriend. Suddenly, his mind is filled with a million questions. Do Harry’s parents know that he’s gay? Have they heard about Louis? Do they know Harry and Louis are together? Why are they here?

“Pleasure.” Desmond grunts, and Louis raises his eyebrows at him in disbelief. 

“How did you guys know I’d be here?” Harry asks, one of the many questions burning in Louis’ mind. He pulls one of Louis’ shitty dining chairs out for his mother before sitting at another himself as Gemma plops herself down on the arm of Louis’ sofa. Desmond doesn’t sit down anywhere, but at least he’s looking like he’s listening a little bit now.

“We went to your apartment,” Anne starts with a polite smile. “and a dishevelled looking Muslim boy answered the door and he told us you’d be here.”

“Oh god.” Harry groans under his breath. Louis sits down at the dining chair next to Harry for the sole purpose of putting a comforting hand on Harry’s knee under the table. 

“So are you two toget—“ Gemma starts, but her father cuts her off.

“Do you live here?” Desmond asks - well, demands would be a better way of putting it. “Why aren’t you staying at your apartment in Gramercy Park? The one that we spend thousands of dollars a month paying rent for you?”

Harry’s lips are pressed together, and his leg is shaking under Louis’ hand. Louis’ eyes dart from Harry’s clearly distressed face to Desmond. Louis has known the guy all of two minutes and already fucking hates him. 

“Um, no. I don’t, I don’t live here.” Harry clears his throat. “This is Louis’ apartment. I still live in Gramercy Park, me and Louis are just hanging out here today.”

Harry turns his attention to his mother before adding, “The guy you met is Zayn, he’s Louis’ best friend.”

Before Harry can continue talking about Zayn, Desmond cuts him off (something Louis can tell already that he enjoys doing).

“Why was he at your apartment? We don’t pay for him to stay there.”

“No, he just, he and Liam, one of our other friends, they pop over sometimes, they have a copy of my key in case they ever need it.” Harry’s hand squeezes Louis’ under the table. “He wouldn’t have known I wasn’t going to be there. He probably just stopped by to say hello or borrow something.”

“Borrow something. That sounds about right, someone like _him._ ” Desmond grumbles to himself.

Oh, good. He’s a racist, too. 

“So, uh, Louis,” Anne smiles at Louis now, and Harry’s grip on Louis’ hand relaxes a little. “Where are you from? Have you always lived in New York?”

“No, actually, I’m from Ohio.” Louis replies, trying to be polite, despite his anger. Desmond lets out a loud “HA!” from where he stands against the wall, and after a quick glare from Gemma, tries to disguise it as a cough. “I moved here when I was 19.”

“And how old are you now?”

“23.” Louis responds. 

“Oh, that’s nice.” Louis can tell that Anne has absolutely no idea what to say to him. “Your apartment is… quaint.”

“My family never had much money,” Louis starts, his tone firm and slightly aggressive as his gaze returns to Desmond. “so I bought this place with the money I earned from working three jobs when I moved to the city.”

“So Harry.” Desmond pipes up again, completely ignoring Louis. “Hannah Bowan’s fiancé left her a few weeks ago. She always had a crush on you, you know.”

Louis’ eyebrows draw together as he looks from Harry to Desmond. Harry sighs, but keeps his tone polite as ever as he responds, “Dad, I told you, I’m not interested in girls.”

“Oh come on, Harry.” Desmond huffs. “I think it’s time you drop your little rebellious charade.”

“It’s not a charade, dad.” Harry’s voice is wobbly, his cheeks going red, and Louis recognises his facial expression. It’s the one Harry makes when he’s trying not to cry. “I’m _gay_ , I like boys.”

“Jesus Christ, Harry, stop being ridiculous. Moving to New York and hanging out with tattooed _dropkicks_ is one thing, but enough is enough.”

“Dad!” Gemma interrupts, her tone firm as she shoots daggers in Desmond’s direction. Louis swallows hard, the hand that was previously on Harry’s knee now balled into a fist. He has never wanted to beat the shit out of someone more in his entire life. 

“All I’m saying is, it’s time to come home. Back to Connecticut.” Desmond is staring directly at Harry now, and Harry is practically squirming under the scrutiny. “Business is better than ever, and a job in advertising just opened up.”

“But dad, I don’t _want_ to leave New York.” Harry’s voice is louder now, more forceful, but Louis knows this is as close as he will get to giving his dad the verbal ass-whooping he deserves. “I like it here. I’m finally doing something I love.”

“What, acting in small-time plays and hanging out in dingy apartments?” 

Louis glares at Anne, wondering why she isn’t stepping in to help her son. What kind of mother could let her husband talk to their son so horribly? But Anne remains silent, staring down at her hands. 

“Acting is what I’ve always wanted to do. And I’m really happy here.” Harry insists, and Louis can feel his hand frantically searching for Louis’ under the table again. He finds it and squeezes hard.

“Why can’t you be a good son, like Niall is to his parents?” Desmond fumes, his voice getting louder now. Louis has to resist the urge to snort out loud, wanting nothing more than to tell Harry’s stupid obnoxious father that the last time Louis saw Niall he smoked a ridiculous amount of weed with Zayn and got a blow job in the bathroom from one of Liam’s cast mates. “He works for his father, he’s not a disappointment!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Louis snaps, deciding that enough is enough. He can’t sit back and watch his Harry get treated this way any longer, especially if no one else in the room is going to help out and defend the kid. “Harry’s not a disappointment, and it’s not his fault you’re an obnoxious asshole.”

“Excuse me, but this is between me and my son.” Desmond’s eyes narrow at Louis, and Louis responds by standing up from his seat.

“You’re disrespecting _my_ boyfriend in _my_ apartment so I think that makes this my business.” Louis’ voice raises to meet the volume of Desmond’s. “Where the fuck do you get off speaking to him like that?”

“I’ll speak to him however I want, thank you very much. I suggest you sit down and watch your mouth.” Desmond demands, but Louis only takes a step close to him, eyes narrowing.

“I suggest you get the fuck out of my apartment before I punch you in the face and your wife and daughter have to carry you out.” Louis glances down at where the buttons on Desmond’s shirt are almost bursting around his middle. “If they can manage it, that is.”

“Louis, please, it’s not worth it.” Harry pleads, standing from his seat, and though the anger is boiling in Louis’ gut and he wants to scream at the guy some more, Louis relents, if not only for Harry. 

“I think it’s about time we leave, Des.” Anne suggests quietly as she too rises from her seat. 

“Fine.” Desmond is still glaring at Louis, but he makes for the door. Harry stands next to Louis now, shoulders slumped and looking at the floor. “Call me when you decide to man up and return to the real world, Harry.”

And with that, Gemma, Anne, and her complete Nazi asshole of a husband are gone. 

The apartment remains silent for a few moments, the only sound being Louis’ heavy breathing. He hadn’t even noticed until now that he called Harry his boyfriend. It was the first time Louis has said it out loud to someone else, and he hates that it was wasted on such a fucking dick head. 

Harry is sniffling now, and Louis definitely, painfully, recognises that sound.

“Hey, baby, it’s okay.” Louis whispers soothingly, pulling Harry into a hug. “Don’t listen to him. I know he’s your dad, but you deserve better than that. You deserve so much better than that.”

Harry cries softly into Louis’ shoulder as he wraps his arms around Louis’ middle. Louis cards one hand through Harry’s curls slowly as the other rests on Harry’s back. They stay that way for a few minutes, with Louis whispering “it’s okay” every now and then. 

Harry stops crying eventually, and his breathing returns to normal as he retracts from Louis’ grasp.

“Thanks, Lou.” Harry’s lip is still quivering, and his eyes are red from the tears and Louis wants to run down the stairs and up the street and beat Desmond Styles into oblivion. 

“I love you.”

Louis’ heart immediately starts beating faster, and he smiles reassuringly at Harry before pulling him in for another hug. “I know.”

He knows Harry means what he said. And he knows Harry wants him to say it back. But Louis just _can’t._  

He’s seen what love does to people; he’s seen the way Liam cried when his first ever girlfriend Danielle left him, and the way Zayn flipped out when his ex Perrie cheated on him, and most important he’s seen the way his mom struggled to pick up the pieces of her life when Louis’ dad left her, left Louis and Lottie and Fizzie and Phoebe and Daisy, and he heard the way she cried herself to sleep in her room every night for months. Harry means the absolute world to Louis, but he’s seen what love is, how it ruins everything, and he wants no part in it. He and Harry both deserve better than that. 

  
—-

  
Louis isn’t really one for celebrating birthdays, but he can’t deny innocent, puppy-dog-eyed Liam Payne his one birthday wish. And this year, Liam’s one wish is that everyone get together for drinks at Pauly’s and wear stupid party hats to celebrate Liam turning 22. 

Also Harry is the one who bought the party hats, and he used the whole “please Louis, for me” thing and stuck his bottom lip out and Louis just _couldn’t_ say no. 

Louis and Harry show up at the bar last, because Louis likes to make an entrance (really he’d just lost track of time while playing FIFA), so they head over to their usual booth where Liam and Zayn are waiting, along with a gorgeous brunette girl that Liam has his arm around and—

“Niall!” Harry exclaims, and Louis drags Niall out of his seat so that Harry and Louis can take it in turns to hug him. 

“What are you doing here?” Harry beams, looking Niall up and down. 

“Couldn’t miss Payno’s birthday, could I?” Niall grins, his party hat now lopsided on his head from the attack of hugs.

They all slip back into the booth, Louis next to Zayn and Harry next to Niall, with Liam and the new girl in the middle.

“Boys,” Liam starts, but Louis, panicked, cuts him off.

“Harry and I got here at the same time, how weird.” Louis blurts, and Harry looks down at the table with a frown. Zayn and Liam look at Louis like he has three heads. 

“Thanks for that, Lou.” Liam looks genuinely puzzled, and Louis’ face flushes hot. “Uh, I was just going to say, this is Sophia. My girlfriend.”

Sophia smiles nervously and does a little wave at the boys, and Louis nods curtly. Harry gives her a genuine, happy smile, and Louis groans to himself because she probably thinks Louis is the worlds biggest freak. 

“So, how do you all know each other?” Sophia asks, and all the boys look at Louis.

“Well,” Louis starts with a smile. They always look to him. “Zayn and I went to elementary school together, and when we moved to the city we joined an acting class and that’s where we met Liam. Then Harry was cast in a play Zayn and I were in, and Niall and Harry have been best friends since middle school.”

“Aw, Liam’s left out!” Sophia pouts before smirking at Liam, tucking herself into his side. 

“That’s right, I don’t have any of these high school memories. It’s not fair.” Liam complains, though he’s smiling as he gives Sophia a kiss on the forehead.

“Probably a good thing, you would’ve hated us in high school.” Louis smirks, and Niall laughs. “Me and Zayn used to skip class _all the time,_ mostly to get stoned or tag the brick walls in the yard.And Niall and Harry…”

Louis glances across the table at the duo, who are both looking back at him with mischievous grins. 

“These two definitely tried to seduce their teachers at some point.” Louis finishes, and both Niall and Harry immediately start laughing. 

“You told him?!” Niall says through his laughter, and Harry just laughs harder. 

“I didn’t tell him anything!”

The rest of the group laugh too now, Louis extremely proud of himself for actually guessing correctly. Not like it was hard - Niall and Harry give off a very specific kind of “cocky white kids with too much money and nothing but free time” vibe. 

The conversation carries from there, and it appears that Sophia is a pretty good match for Liam - she laughs when he says classic naive Liam things, but not in a mocking way, more in a kind way. She seems like a genuinely nice person, and it makes Louis happy to know that one of his friends has found a unicorn too. Louis likes her already, he decides. 

“Alright,” Harry says through his giggles after a particularly bad joke of Liam’s. “I’m getting next round. Everyone just want more of the same?”

The group nod, though Niall seems to be eyeing Harry’s fancy cocktail rather jealously.

“I’ll come with you!” Sophia volunteers, Niall moving out of her way so she can rush to Harry’s side as they walk to the bar together. 

“So, Sophia?” Liam asks with a nervous looking expression. 

Louis makes a show of shooting Zayn a look and rolling his eyes, and the way Liam looks like he’s about to throw up causes Niall to burst into hysterics. Liam looks at Niall now, bewildered and with absolutely no idea what’s going on.

“She’s gorgeous, mate, we love her.” Louis assures Liam, giving him a firm clap on the shoulder behind Zayn’s back.

“She seems like a really good match for you.” Zayn nods in agreement, and Niall’s still laughing to himself. Louis knows that Zayn’s only criteria for Liam’s girlfriends is that they like Zayn and don’t try and push him out, but it probably still means a lot to Liam to hear him give his stamp of approval. 

“Good, I’m really glad you guys like her. I knew you would.” Liam grins, finishing the last of his beer. “She’s a really great girl. Did I tell you guys how I met her?”

Louis starts to tune out a little at this, glancing around the bar. His eyes almost immediately fall on Harry, Harry’s arm, and the six-foot-something male model that is currently touching Harry’s arm. 

Louis narrows his eyes at the scene, his face burning and fists clenched, watching as Sophia sips on her drink and talks to the bartender, and Harry chats happily with Mr. Calvin Klein, seemingly not at all phased by the attention. 

Louis knows that that’s just the kind of person Harry is - he likes making friends, he likes talking to people, and he’s charming as hell. That doesn’t make him a flirt, and that doesn’t mean he’d cheat on Louis. He’s probably oblivious to the fact that this guy is so clearly hitting on him. But still Louis can’t help but want to walk over there and punch this guy in the face.

Before he can stop himself, that’s exactly what he’s doing. Party hat in hand (because you cannot look intimidating in a party hat), he gets almost all the way to Harry’s side before Harry notices him, his face lighting up as he puts his hand on Louis’ shoulder. Louis revels in the way it forces the other guy to release his grip on Louis’ boyfriend. 

“Louis, hi. This is Dave.” Harry smiles. Louis definitely is not smiling. 

“Hey.” Dave smirks briefly at Louis before returning his gaze to Harry - more accurately, Harry’s _lips_.

“Pleasure.” Louis says, his voice as low and threatening as he can make it.

Dave seems to get the hint now, glancing quickly from Louis to Harry a few times. 

“You seem like an okay guy, Doug, but I don’t think Harry here is interested.” Louis’ eyes are narrowed and his gaze is fixed and he’s so obviously marking his territory that he might as well just piss on Harry.

“It’s Dave.” 

“Whatever.” Louis waves a hand dismissively, and Harry bites his lip next to him. 

“Sorry. I didn’t realise…” Dave’s voice trails off as he swallows hard, and despite the fact that he’s way taller than Louis and definitely way more built, he walks off without another word. 

Without offering an explanation or waiting for Harry to respond, Louis turns on his heels and marches back to their table, praying to whatever gods exist that the boys didn’t see what just happened. He slides back in the booth next to Zayn, ignoring the looks he’s getting from all three of the other boys.

“Aw, Louis, getting all protective over Harry.” Zayn teases, poking Louis in the side. Louis feels all the heat in his body rush to his face. 

“Don’t like when he’s not giving you attention, Tommo?” Liam giggles, and Zayn too laughs. 

“Louis’ getting jealous.” Niall sings quietly, and Louis rolls his eyes way too dramatically.

“Uhhh let me think about that — no. Harry Styles is not my type.” Louis scoffs, despite the obvious blush in his cheeks. “I’m strictly into pussy, thank you.”

Louis doesn’t realise until it’s too late, however, that Harry and Sophia have returned to the table and Harry is standing next to Niall, holding everyone’s drinks, bless him. And he looks completely fucking betrayed.

Louis wants to scoop all his words up and shove them back into his mouth, but he can’t, and Harry definitely heard every single word of what Louis just said. 

But what was Louis supposed to say? He can’t let Zayn or Liam or Niall know that he likes Harry, or that they’re together. They don’t even know he’s interested in guys, for fuck sake. 

Louis’ heart is firmly in his stomach for the rest of the evening because Harry barely says a word, just keeps playing with the straw in his drink and chewing on his lip. No one else seems to notice, all lost in their conversations and jokes, except maybe Niall, who spends the rest of the time with his arm around Harry. 

Louis stares at him for a while, stuck on the idea that Niall can so casually be friendly and affectionate with Harry and no one thinks anything of it. It’s like it’s commonplace for Niall to have his arm around Harry, or kiss him on the cheek or touch his bum and it kind of makes Louis want to rip off Niall’s arm and beat him with it for touching his boyfriend, but mostly he just wishes he could be that way with Harry. 

But that’s not the way things are, so Louis just watches Harry sulk and tries to join in on the banter surrounding them until it’s 1AM and Liam decides it’s time for him, Sophia and Zayn to head back to their apartment.

“Oh yeah, Harry,” Niall starts as the other three stand up. “I figured it would be okay if I stayed at your place tonight.”

Louis hadn’t even considered the fact that Niall would need a place to stay, if he’s honest. He looks quickly from Harry to Niall, waiting for Harry’s response. 

“Uh…” Harry starts, and he’s an absolutely dreadful liar so Louis’ terrified of what’s coming next. Thankfully, Niall doesn’t let him finish.

“It’s alright — Zayn, mind if I crash at yours? I can keep you company while these two fuck.” Niall beams at Zayn as he too rises from the booth, and even Louis can’t help but smile at the way Sophia and Liam instantly blush in unison. 

“I’d love to have you, Ni.” Zayn grins back, slinging an arm around Niall’s shoulders. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good cuddle.”

Louis tries to shoot Harry a ‘thanks for getting us out of that’ look, but it’s met with a ‘I didn’t do that for you’ look. Louis is pretty sure there’s going to be a fight when they get back to his place, so he drags out their leaving as much as he can, practically clinging onto Zayn for dear life as they hug goodbye. 

They’re home for ten long, full minutes before Harry speaks a word. He’s just been sitting on the couch staring at the TV, pretending to be interested in a show about shark attack victims, and Louis has had just about enough of the silent treatment. 

“Are you going to apologise, at least?” Harry asks quietly, half pouting. Louis glances over at him from the other end of the couch with raised eyebrows.

“We’re speaking now, are we?”

“You going to answer my question?” Harry grumbles, folding his arms across his chest for added effect. 

Louis sighs dramatically. 

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Yes, I am jealous, he’s my boyfriend and I don’t want other guys chatting him up’?”

Harry looks at Louis like the answer is obvious.

“You know I’m not ready to come out yet, Harry.” Louis says sharply, returning his attention to the TV. “Stop pushing it.”

Louis stares at the TV, waiting for Harry to bite back with something about how Louis should be ready, or asking when he plans on being ready, or how he should talk about Harry more respectfully to other people, but for a long time, nothing comes. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” Harry mumbles eventually. He has no reason to apologise, and Louis knows this, but he lets it go. Not worth continuing the argument - if Harry is respecting Louis’ decision, let’s just leave it at that. 

Harry lifts himself from the couch, touching a light kiss to the top of Louis’ head. “I’m going to bed. You coming?”

“Yeah,” Louis gives him a small, grateful smile. “I’ll be in shortly.”

Harry’s laying on his side, facing the wall with his eyes closed when Louis gets to bed, and even though Louis is pretty sure Harry is still awake, he doesn’t respond when Louis whispers “Night Haz” as he pulls the covers over himself.

_  
—-_

  
The boys have definitely gotten themselves into a routine. And Louis fucking loves it.

Harry and Louis stay at Louis’ house Saturday through to Wednesday, and Thursday and Friday nights are spent at Harry’s. Harry cooks breakfast and makes tea for them both every morning, and they watch VH1 on the couch until one of them has to go to work. On Saturday nights, they have drinks with Liam and Zayn, occasionally calling Niall on FaceTime so he doesn’t feel left out. On Sundays, they have lunch with Liam and Zayn and recount the events of the night before. Sunday nights are spent watching a movie of Harry’s choice in bed with Bruce sleeping near their feet.

It turns out that Louis can be domestic as fuck when he’s with the right person (and a year into his relationship with Harry, he can now say with more confidence than ever that he is definitely with the right person). 

It’s a standard Sunday lunch with Zayn and Liam, and Louis’ head is slightly pounding as a result of drinking too much the night before. What’s not standard is Harry. 

Harry’s entire mood is different to normal. It’s not just the way his leg is shaking under Louis’ hand, or that he keeps biting his lip. He keeps _staring_ at Louis. Like, more than usual (and that’s saying something). 

Louis keeps his cool on the outside, but internally he’s running over everything he’s said and done to and around Harry in the last 48 hours. That’s the thing about being a boyfriend - you have to be super careful about what you say at all times because you don’t want to offend the most important person to you. And Harry is a very sensitive person. Louis tends to offend him a fair bit, a lot more than he would like to, at least. 

But Louis can’t think of a single thing he’s done wrong (for once). Last night he’d been as good of a boyfriend as one can be without giving it away to their drunken friends; he’d gotten Harry drinks, held his hand and kissed his cheek when the boys weren’t looking, and the blow job Louis had given Harry when they’d gotten home was above par for sure.

The walk back to the apartment consists entirely of Louis staring at Harry, examining him, while Harry just walks alongside him obliviously. Harry spends a lot of his life oblivious, Louis thinks. 

When they get back to the apartment, Louis doesn’t speak, just stares at Harry until the younger male says something. 

“Okay, so I have some news.” Harry grins, and _thank god_ , because Louis was starting to feel sick to his stomach that something was wrong. He feels the relief washing over him immediately.

“Oh you do?” Louis smiles back, placing his hands on Harry’s hips. “Tell me, Harold, what’s this news?”

Harry bites his lip and rocks back on his heels, and Louis wants him to just spit it out already.

“My agent got a call from some casting people. They saw me in the play, I don’t know, it’s all a bit weird. But…” Harry’s eyes are sparkling. His dimples are on full display. “Louis, they want me. They think I’d be perfect for this pilot they’re working on.”

Louis is so proud he wants to tackle the kid to the ground and plant kisses all over his face.

“Harry! That’s amazing!” Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, burying his face in the curls. Harry’s grip around Louis’ middle tightens, and Louis can feel him smiling into his neck. “I am so proud of you, babe.”

When they separate, Louis takes a moment to look Harry in the eyes. His heart is beating so fast, he’s so excited he’s not even thinking it all the way through. 

“It’s this show called _Fireproof_ , it’s a comedy, about two brothers that like, go into the witness protection program. It sounds really good, I think it’s gonna be awesome.” Harry’s eyes widen even more. “They’re look at _Ashton Kutcher_ for the other lead.”

Louis can’t stop smiling. Harry’s achieved something incredible, after all his hard work. He’s got his big break. 

“Harry, this is incredible.”

“There’s a bit of a problem though.” Harry adds, though he’s still grinning widely. 

Louis frowns.

“I don’t see a problem in this situation, Haz, you’re gonna be a star!”

Harry bites his lip, but he’s still smiling so broadly his face might split in half. 

“It films in LA.”

The words hit Louis like a fucking sucker punch to the face. There’s a long silence while Louis stares at Harry, waiting for him to keep talking, but Harry just keeps smiling at him. 

“So what does that mean for us?” Louis asks the obvious question hanging in the air. Whether Harry notices his boyfriend’s lack of enthusiasm or not isn’t clear because he just keeps smiling at Louis in a way that’s making Louis sort of uncomfortable, because he really doesn’t remember the last time Harry smiled this much. 

“I want you to come with me, silly.” Harry responds, taking Louis’ hand in his. “Move to LA, I can start working on my pilot, you can get jobs out there until you make it big, which you will, and we’ll get a place together.” He pauses to analyse the concern on Louis’ face, and Louis can’t be sure but he thinks his smile is finally starting to fade, just a little bit. “It’s what we’ve always wanted.”

“I don’t know about you, Harry, but scrambling for work while my boyfriend has his dreams come true in the big leagues isn’t exactly what I’ve always wanted.” Louis responds, and yep, the smile is definitely gone from Harry’s face now.

“I thought you’d be excited. It’s actually happening. And it won’t be long before you get called up too, you said it yourself, people are starting to notice you, your agents got a lot of calls in.” Harry’s trying to remain optimistic, Louis can tell, but he already knows he’s fighting a losing battle. Louis doesn’t want to go, which means Louis isn’t going. 

“Yeah but we don’t know that. I mean, come on, I’m covered in tattoos and I’m five foot seven, I’m not exactly the Hollywood type. For all we know, I could end up moving to LA with you and in five years, y’know, you’re winning Oscars and I’m stuck in a dead end, going no where.” Louis has taken a step back from Harry, and the frustration in his voice is building. “Harry I want to support you and I’m so proud of you, but I don’t want to end up resenting you”

“All that could happen if we stay here too!” Harry reasons, although his tone isn’t sounding very reasonable. 

“But at least I have Zayn and Liam and my life here!”

“You’ll have me.” Harry counters. 

“And what am I supposed to tell people? Hey guys, sorry but I’m leaving. Yeah, I haven’t got a job or anything, but Harry, who you all know as my close friend, he has and I’m moving to LA with him! Oh yeah, and we’re gay.” Louis continues, sarcastic enthusiasm apparent in his voice, causing Harry to recoil, looking hurt. The tension level in this conversation is rising dangerously fast, and Louis can just tell it’s not going to end pretty. 

“Is that was this is really about? You don’t want to go with me because you don’t want to come out of the closet?” Harry asks, narrowing his eyes at the shorter male. 

“No.” Louis responds, but the fact that that’s all he could manage to say in response coming from a guy who never runs out of things to say says enough. Louis can now see Harry’s chest heaving, and his eyes narrow even further. A few more moments of staring him down, and when Louis doesn’t crack, Harry shakes his head and steps back even further from Louis.

“You are such a coward, Louis, you know that?” Harry’s voice is nearly at yelling volume now, and Louis’ internal fire has been ignited. It’s on now. And there’s nothing that’s going to slow him down, now matter how important the guy standing in front of him is to him.

“I’m a coward, am I? For not being fucking _ready_ for something as life changing as telling people that I’m gay?”

“For not being ready after a year! For not caring about me enough to be comfortable with people knowing about it!” Harry is full on yelling now, his eyes brimming with tears and his face going red. “For not wanting to chase our dreams with me like you’ve always told me you wanted to!”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t care about you enough, that’s it. Like I haven’t given you so much of my life already. A whole year, you said it yourself!”

“You know, if you love someone, you don’t hide them away like something to be ashamed of, Louis. I guess that’s why you’ve never said it, right? Because you don’t love me.” Louis tenses up at these words, at the mention of the sacred word he never spoke, and Harry continues, “So, sorry but excuse me for being tired of waiting for something that’s clearly never going to happen.” He spits, brushing against Louis’ shoulder as he walks past him towards the door.

“So what then, huh?” Louis snaps, not wanting to believe the words he’s saying. Harry turns in the doorway. “This is it?”

_I’m never going to just give up on us_ , is what Louis wants him to say. But Harry’s too proud for that. Louis knows whats happening, and he wants to stop it, he wants to just grab the boy and hold him until he calms down. But he’s too mad, he’s too pissed off, and he’s too fucking stupid to do anything about it. 

“Are you coming to LA?” Harry replies, calmer now, and Louis knows he already knows the response.

“No.”

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” Harry returns, walking out the open doorway.

“Yeah, well fine.” Louis spits, slamming the door in Harry’s face and proceeding to kick it once for good measure. 

_Oh my god, what just happened?_

His whole body is shaking so hard he thinks he may fall over. All he can do is stare at the window opposite him as he slides down against the wall until he’s sitting on the floor next to the door, knees up in front of his face.

A year. _A year_ of being with Harry, learning his every little detail and flaw and annoying habit, and it could all be over, just like that. As suddenly as it had begun.

Louis continues to stare at the window, like he’s waiting to wake up. Like this is all just a surreal dream, a nightmare, and that in a few seconds Harry will knock on the door and give Louis his goofy, big smile and call him an idiot like he always does when they make up from a fight. 

Louis waits. He waits, sitting on the floor like a heartbroken teenage girl, for 10 minutes. Harry doesn’t come back.

Nothing about this feels right. This can’t be the end. There’s too much left in the tank. Too much left to be said and done together. Harry doesn’t know that Louis got asked if he was single by a nine year old that morning. He doesn’t know about the really good pizza Louis had for lunch, or the practical joke he and Zayn played on Liam. All these trivial things that Louis loves to share with Harry, and that Harry loves to hear.

But it’s the things that Louis never said that’s the reason he’s feeling this way now. A part of him wants to chase Harry down and slap him, tell him he’s being stupid and stubborn. But it’s not Harry’s fault. There’s no one else Louis can blame, he knows that. This is all on him. 

He’s not even sure what he’s doing when he picks up his keys and phone and heads for the door, and it certainly isn’t a good idea, but Louis doesn’t care anymore. He never cared about much, and now he has no real reason to.

  
—-

  
Louis wakes up the next morning with arms around him and a smile on his face despite his killer headache, but when he glances over his shoulder and realises it’s not a sleepy Harry laying next to him, Louis immediately begins to freak out. Silently, of course, so that Jeff (Tyler? David? Louis isn’t sure at this point, nor does he care really) doesn’t wake up. Louis begins pacing back and forward, hands rubbing at his temples, trying to recall the night before. He’s having flash backs of beer, lots and lots of beer, and the club down the street, but his train of thought is interrupted when his phone starts ringing.

It’s Harry. _Oh fuck,_ that’s right, Harry dumped him last night. Or, at least, Louis thinks he did. Shit. Did he? Did they break up? 

Louis sprints into the bathroom and shakily answers the phone, waiting for Harry to speak first, having absolutely no idea what to expect.

“Hi.” Harry says. Louis can’t gage much from that alone, but he sounds pretty calm and just regular Harry so Louis’ heart rate begins to return to normal.

“Hey” Louis starts nervously. “How are you?”

“I feel awful.” Harry admits, and Louis breathes a sigh of relief. Not that he’d ever want Harry to feel awful, but in a situation like this, it’s nice to hear. “I’m so sorry, Louis. I hate fighting with you.”

"So what are we going to do?” Louis asks, fearing the answer but knowing they need to talk about it.

“I don’t want to end up resenting you, Lou. I can’t not move to LA. And I can’t force you to come with me if you don’t want to, because then you’ll end up resenting me.” Harry sounds sad, so so sad, and Louis wants to wrap him up in a blanket and give him a cuddle and tell him it will all be okay, because they’re Louis-and-Harry, and they always work things out.

Louis gets halfway through telling Harry they could try long distance, when he hears the scuffling of feet behind him, and he finds himself frozen in his place.

“Hey, babe, you got any coffee?”

Paul/Mark/Daniel _whatever his name is_ is now number one on Louis’ list of people he is going to murder. Because there is absolutely no way Harry didn’t hear that.

Louis turns around to show the guy that he’s on the phone and waves him away, his palms now sweating uncontrollably and his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

  
A lump forms in Louis’s throat, and his stomach is weighed down by unfamiliar sensations. Guilt? Remorse? He’s never felt anything like this before. Louis runs his hands through his messy brown hair, and tries to come up with some kind of logical excuse. But he can’t, he can’t fucking justify how someone else ended up in his bed.

“Who was that?” Harry asks quietly, after what feels like an eternity of silence.

“Harry...” Louis’ voice is almost drowned out by sounds of heavy breathing, the sound of the younger man trying to restrain his anger. And Harry _never_ gets angry.

“Louis. Who was that?” Harry repeats, more forcefully this time.

Louis doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to.

“You’re such an asshole.” Harry mumbles out after a few tense moments of silence, and it’s followed by what Louis can only assume is Harry punching a hole in the wall. It’s something completely out of Harry’s character, and it brings tears to Louis’ eyes to know he’s caused this unnatural reaction in Harry.

“Harry, just, calm down. Please.” Louis has never pleaded before. He doesn’t beg, plead or lower himself to that kind of stupid pathetic level of grovelling. But Harry deserves better than this, he deserves better than Louis, and Louis will be damned if he isn’t going to do all he can to make things better. “It’s okay, it’s not a big deal. I didn’t fuck him, I don’t think, I mean, I, it didn’t mean anything. I thought you were done with me, I was out of my mind.”

“What’s the matter with you? Don’t you feel anything anymore?” The words hit Louis hard, and he feels tears brimming in his eyes. “Last night you told me you straight up don’t want to come out because you don’t love me, and want to continue hiding me away like some kind of dirty secret, and then you proceed to go and spend the night with someone else?” Harry sounds all kinds of angry and upset and frustrated now, and his words sting at Louis, igniting an internal fire that Louis usually kept hidden from him.

“Hey, don’t pull that shit with me. You were the one that said you were fine staying in the closet with me until I was ready. And I’m not fucking ready, so why are you pushing it?” 

No, no no no. He didn’t mean to say that. It’s like his mouth isn’t connected to his brain. Fighting back and self-defence is his natural instinct, and although his entire relationship with Harry so far has gone against Louis’ usual instincts and everything he previously thought himself to be, he’s become his old self now. The person he is around everyone else. Snarky, defensive. He wants to apologise, he wants to beg Harry to forgive him and tell him those three words he’s never been able to say but... He just _isn’t._

Louis can practically see Harry recoiling in shock and anger. “I said that over a year ago, Lou! I didn’t realize when you said ‘for now’ that you meant for the rest of our lives, or else I wouldn’t have agreed to it.”

“Oh, so I’m not worth waiting for, is that it?”

“You spent the night with someone else, Lou! How the fuck is it my fault?”

Shit. Louis forgot that’s what they were arguing about.  
  
“It’s not” His voice has completely softened, but he knows it’s passed the point of repair now. “So, is this it? I come out, or we’re done?”

He’s gone. 

“No, Louis. We’re done either way.” 

  
\---

  
Harry leaves on a Thursday.

According to Zayn and Liam, they'd wanted to throw him a going away party, but Harry had refused. He'd apparently managed to pack up his stuff impossibly fast, and made sure not to leave anything behind. Liam says it’s almost like he didn’t want an excuse to come back. 

And with that, any trace of Harry is gone except the ink on Louis’ arms and the heavy feeling in his chest. 

The few days after that are a blur, and even though nothing could possibly stop Louis from showing up to auditions and callbacks and working his ass off, he doesn’t get much else done. It’s more than apparent to everyone that he isn’t himself. 

So Louis isn’t surprised when Eleanor Calder comes to his apartment with an obvious look of concern. Louis has to give her credit though, it actually looks genuine. That’s more than he’s seen from a lot of other people in the past few days. 

“Come on in.” Louis offers, moving out of the door way. Eleanor smiles politely, brushing his hand with hers as she walks past. 

“I just wanted to see if you’re okay.” Eleanor says, dropping down on the couch “Liam says you’ve been pretty down and out lately.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Louis lies, sitting himself next to her. He can tell she’s watching him, but never one to initiate an intimate or emotional moment, Louis focuses instead on gently kicking the coffee table in front of him. 

“You’re not.” Eleanor correctly observes with a small smile. “Is it Zayn?” 

Louis shakes his head. “No. Not Zayn.”

“Someone else then?” Eleanor presses. It’s a little annoying, but Louis knows she’s coming from a good place. 

“Listen, I don’t really wanna... y’know...” Louis mumbles, scratching at the back of his head. 

“Oh, I understand.” Eleanor nods, and an awkward silence fills the air. A few more uncomfortable moments pass before she speaks again, “You know, a few months ago I went through a thing. I was seeing this guy, Mike. And he was brilliant. Everything I’ve ever wanted in a boyfriend. I was really falling for him.”

Louis looks up at Eleanor for the first time since she walked in the door, but now it’s her that’s avoiding eye contact. Louis can see that’s she’s hurt, and he feels bad for the poor girl. Yeah, she brings the hurt on herself sometimes, but she doesn’t deserve it. For the first time in his life, he knows what hurt looks like, what it feels like. 

God, at least if nothing else he can say that this break up gave him _empathy_. As much as he doesn’t want it. 

“But he didn’t want... anything. Just fun.” She takes another pause, staring at her lap. “And that was it. He broke my heart.”

Louis only just then notices that somewhere during the telling of that story, Eleanor’s hand made its way onto his. She locks eyes with him, adorable and harmless and beautiful in a way that is all too familiar to Louis. He knows that fleeting feeling of familiarity is to blame for the way his lips suddenly are on Eleanor’s, his hands in her hair and her hands around his neck. He’s kissing her and she’s kissing back, and from the way she’s now grabbing at his zipper with one hand it seems more than obvious where this is headed.

Louis sits up just long enough to pull off his shirt, revealing his tattoo covered body before continuing the kissing. Their tongues are teasing each other, and it’s all just as it’s always been since Louis lost his virginity when he was 16 - the touching, the kissing, the way he’s grinding up against her and she’s moaning in his mouth. But just like when Louis was 16, it feels awkward. Weird. Uncomfortable. Any other synonym you can possibly think for the word ‘wrong’. As much as he wants to, Louis can’t do this. 

Just as Eleanor is about to take off her dress, Louis bolts upright. Panting, he pushes his hair from his face and climbs off her.

“Are you okay?” Eleanor asks, looking genuinely offended and upset. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s not you.” Louis responds, not lying in the slightest. He covers his face with his hands and drops back on the couch. Eleanor timidly puts a hand on his shoulder. “I just... I can’t do this.”

“Is it because of that person?” Eleanor asks, handing Louis his shirt. God, she has to be the most generous and understanding female on the planet. 

“No. It’s... Well yeah. I don’t know.” Louis searches for any kind of spin he can put on it without lying or telling the whole truth. There’s another long pause before he admits, “It’s me. I’m the problem.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Louis, you’re a great guy.” Eleanor’s brushing the hair from his face now. 

“No. I mean...” He sighs in frustration, kicking the coffee table again, this time with aggression. “You’re beautiful, okay. You’re magnificent and so nice and I wish I could do this but I just, I can’t do it.”

Eleanor suddenly freezes, and Louis squeezes his eyes shut. He said too much. 

“Louis are you...” Eleanor begins, extremely tentatively. “Are you gay?”

Louis suddenly realises this is the first time in his life anyone has ever even questioned his sexuality, excluding Harry of course. Now that it’s happened, Louis can say that it’s something he really doesn’t like talking about. 

“Thank you for coming to check on me, but I think I just need to be alone right now.” Louis says quietly, refusing to look at Eleanor again. He can’t face her, he can’t face the judging, he can’t face the disgust he’s sure is all over her face.

Louis continues to just stare at the table in front of him as Eleanor picks up her bag and walks out the door without another word. 

Well, if people weren’t talking about him being gay before, they certainly are going to now.

  
\---

  
It’s 7am when Louis wakes up to violent knocking on his front door. He knows who it is. And he knows why he’s here.  
  
Still, he can’t help but ask, “Liam, what the fuck?”  
  
Liam hugs him, but with his aggressiveness Louis feels more like he’s punishing him for something. Liam pushes passed him, followed by Zayn and Louis’ eldest sister Lottie. 

Fuck. This is worse than he thought. It’s a fully-fledged ambush.  
  
The three of them sit on Louis’ couch, and when he sits down near them, they all say in synchronisation, “We need to talk”  
  
“The fuck is this shit, did you guys plan this?”  
  
He doesn’t want them to be here. He doesn’t want them to ask him the questions he can tell are burning away at them, because he doesn’t want to tell them the truth. Lying has been his main game for years now, deceiving his friends, his family, so they don’t discover the truth. He wasn’t ready. 

But now he’s starting to feel like he just doesn’t give a shit. 

“I talked to Eleanor.” Liam says slowly, quietly, and Louis knows that’s all he has to say. Liam knows the truth. And fuck, the pain in his eyes right now caused by knowing his best friend lied to him makes the heavy weight of the guilt he’s been feeling for the past two years come crashing down on him. And it just comes out.

“I’m gay.” Louis says, the word feeling foreign and heavy on his tongue. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud. It’s the first time he’s actually admitted it to himself. 

The room is silent for a few minutes. Louis knows it’s not because the other three are awkward or uncomfortable, but rather they’re all wondering why it took him so long to say, why he didn’t trust them, why he felt like he couldn’t tell them. He can tell Lottie is just bursting at the seams to ask him. But no-one does. 

Instead, Zayn nods and says “thank-you”, and Louis knows he’s just, more than anything, grateful that Louis is finally being honest with him.

Louis always thought it was a real cliché when people say telling the truth makes you feel a lot better, but the weird thing is, saying it out loud actually makes Louis feel relieved. He honestly thought it didn’t matter; He’d always been a private person, and was never one for sharing his shit with the world, but somehow, sharing this made it feel like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

Finally, Lottie leans forward, concerned expression almost patronising, even though Louis knows she’s not trying to be. “Why didn’t you just say something to us sooner? It’s us, Lou, what could you possibly have been afraid of?” 

  
“I wasn’t _afraid_ of anything.” It’s the truth, but it doesn’t seem to make any of them feel better. “I didn’t even know myself until _he_ came and...” Louis can’t bring himself to even say Harry’s name. “It’s just, everything changes when someone comes out. You see it with celebrities all the time, they come out, say they’re gay, and everyone makes a big deal out of it.”

Liam nods, understanding. “Yeah, but there’s something you’re forgetting here; You’re not a celebrity, Louis. You’re an actor, sure, but not a famous one. You perform for like 100 people a night. Yeah, you have the potential to make it big one day, but right now, you’ve only been recognised on the streets what, once, twice? Nobody gives a fuck who you’re doing.”  
  
Louis cringes, squaring his shoulders and trying to win back some of his lost dignity, coming to terms with Liam’s hard truths. “It’s not that, it’s just, you guys, you’re gonna be acting fucking different now. Even Zayn’s gonna be weird.”  
  
“Bullshit.” Zayn remarks. Louis almost forgot he was there, he’s been that quiet. That makes Louis feel even worse. “I don’t care who you fuck, or who fucks you, or who you date, or whatever. We’ve been best friends for _years_ , Louis. That’s not what I care about. We’re family.”

Louis looks up at him, but immediately regrets it from the look Zayn is giving him. He looks _hurt_. Zayn has always been the one person that Louis tells everything to, and Louis suddenly feels stupid for ever thinking that telling Zayn that he’s gay would change anything. That’s not Zayn, and that’s not the kind of friendship they have. Zayn and Louis are ride or die, and always have been. 

“You think I didn’t know something was up?” Zayn asks, and Louis freezes. “You think that I, the guy who’s been your best friend your entire life by the way, couldn’t see that you loved him just as much as he loved you?”

A silence falls over the group again, and Louis feels tears stinging at his eyes. _You loved him just as much as he loved you_. The words repeat over and over again in Louis’ mind, the idea that what Harry and Louis had was so obvious that no matter how hard he’d tried to hide it, he couldn’t. It was just _there_. It had always been there.

“Why didn’t you stop Harry from moving to LA?” Liam asks after a few more moments of silence, eyebrows furrowed together. Louis looks over at him. “If you felt this way, you should have asked him to stay.”

  
Before Louis can even come up with an answer, Lottie cuts in, “He tried.” 

Liam and Zayn’s eyes burn holes into Louis, who has suddenly managed to find a very interesting loose thread on his shirt. Lottie always knew how to read Louis extremely well.

“Because they were together.” Lottie continues. “But this broke them up.”

So everyone finally knows the truth.

A silence falls over the group, and Louis wants to just go to sleep and never wake up. He wants the ground to swallow his unconscious body and leave no trace behind. He wants to stop existing. 

“Tommo... We tell each other everything” He can feel Liam watching him, curiously, almost hurt. “I know it must be hard for you, but you should’ve just said something.”  
  
“What was I supposed to say exactly?” Louis retorts, looking up at them all with a frown. “That I’m gay and the guy you are all practically best friends with is my secret boyfriend, and he just broke up with me and left town? I didn’t need your help. Shit just broke down. There was anything anybody could’ve done about it.” 

Louis knows its a lie. He could’ve done something about it.  


  
—-

  
Not much can motivate Louis to get out of bed in the mornings these days. It’s 2:00 one slow Friday afternoon when Louis wakes up, his cell phone vibrating on the side table next to him. When he sees Zayn’s name on the screen, he almost doesn’t want to read the text message. While Zayn has been more than accepting of Louis since he came out, he’s also been trying to shove the idea of Louis talking to Harry again down Louis’ throat. Like watching him rise to incredible success on television isn’t enough. Zayn may just want his friend to be happy, but Louis doesn’t see happy as being constantly reminded of his greatest fuck up.

He reads the message anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _ Heard on the grapevine _   
>  _that Haz is in town_   
>  _for NYFW next week._   
>  _u know what u need to do._   
>  _DONT BITCH OUT. x_

Louis stares at the message in silence for a few more seconds before throwing his cell at the wall at the end of his bed and smashing the pillow next to him a few times for good measure. But Zayn’s right. He should call Harry. It’s been a couple of months since they’ve even spoken, and as awkward as it could be, if Louis listened to the part of him he usually ignored, he would love to see Harry again. Make things right.

Louis hasn’t been this nervous about a phone call since the morning he woke up with that random guy in his bed. His heart stops in between each ring, simultaneously feeling relief and dread when the phone eventually rings again. Four rings. Louis pulls the phone away from his face, about to hang up, when he hears Harry’s voice through the other end.

“Hello?”

And god damn, just the sound of Harry’s voice, just one word, brings Louis back to the years past, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up like Harry always did.

“Hi.” Louis replies lamely, squeezing his eyes shut. He almost can’t hear himself over the sound of his heart beating. There’s a long silence while Harry waits for an explanation behind the phone call, and Louis searches for one that isn’t pathetic. “I heard you’re in town next week. For Fashion Week. And I uh, I thought maybe we should catch up.”

Harry remains silent on the other end, except this time Louis can tell it’s because he’s searching for an excuse to say no.

“With Zayn and Liam and everyone. You know, the old gang back together. We’ll even invite Niall. You’re not too much of a big star for us now are you?”

Louis hears the smallest of laughs come from Harry, and he feels all the muscles in his chest loosen with it.

“Pauly’s? Next Saturday?” Harry suggests, and Louis feels a broad grin stretch across his face, not only because he’s now thinking about his favourite bar, but because Harry remembered.

“You know I’m always up for a Pauly’s session.”

Louis can’t even hear anything coming from Harry’s end of the line, but if he closes his eyes he can picture exactly what he would look like, from his favourite plain black t-shirt to the way he would be looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head with a broad, dimpled smile right about now. He knows everything about this kid, probably more than he knows about himself, and Louis isn’t surprised that all that knowledge hasn’t gone away over the last several months. For a moment, he forgets that anything has changed.

“Alright, well I’ll see you there. Bye.”

But everything has changed. The line goes dead, but Louis keeps the phone held up to his face for a few more moments, squeezing his eyes shut to repress it all. He can’t explain why, but he just feels _everything_. There’s not even a word - he doesn’t feel sad, or angry, or lonely. Just a mixed up, confusing mess of emotions and Louis having so many feelings when he’s used to just feeling apathy is hurting his head.

Louis crawls to the end of his bed, stretching his arm out as far as it will go to reach his still in-tact cell phone. He lets out a big sigh as he presses ‘reply’ to Zayn’s message.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> it’s done. we’re having  
>  drinks at Paulys.   
>  you’re coming. can you  
>  leave me alone now?

But he won’t, and Louis knows that. It’s why he both loves and can’t stand Zayn. 

  
—-

  
When Harry walks into Pauly’s Bar six days later, he has his head held higher and his smile stretches wider than it ever did, and Louis feels his breath getting caught in his throat. Harry looks good - really good. His hair is longer and held back by a headband, his skin is tanned, his smile whiter, and he’s wearing black, ripped jeans and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the first few buttons undone to reveal a new tattoo of two birds on his chest. Louis kind of wants to make out with him here and now. 

“Well, if it isn’t Hollywood’s rising star, supporting actor in TV’s biggest and best new series _Fireproof_!” Niall says by way of greeting, and Louis shakes his head, hoping Harry hasn’t developed some sort of ego. But Louis has to admit, Harry has done extremely well for himself in LA in only a short space of time.  

“I’m still Just Harry Styles.” Harry says reassuringly as he slides in next to Niall in the booth. Louis knows it’s true. Harry more than anyone would never let fame go to his head. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever man.” Zayn throws some fries and Harry, who swipes them away from his face. “How is the big leagues anyway?”

“Weird. Like, amazing, but...” He shakes his head, dimples on full display as he can’t seem to stop smiling. “Really different to here. Like, a year ago I was living here and acting in small-time plays, now I’m on TV in a successful series with Lucy Hale and Ashton Kutcher. _Ashton Kutcher_ , you know, the guy’s a legend. It’s incredible. Surreal, but incredible.”

Harry seems to now be lost in his own word, and Louis feels his chest get a little tighter. He had a feeling it would be like this. Harry’s had a taste of the better life now, and it’s going much better for him than New York was. Call him selfish, but Louis doesn’t want to hear about the glitz and the glamor, how amazing it all is. He wants to hear Harry say he misses the city. He misses Louis. But he’s not saying that. 

“So Harold, how’s LA?” Liam asks, and Louis rolls his eyes. He knows Liam’s not just curious about how the new location is treating him. “Meet any interesting people?”

Harry seems to pick up on this, and responds with a smile, “No, no one too _interesting_. I’m still getting used to it all. It’s just so different.”

“Huh. How about that.” Liam nods. “What about you Louis, how’s things with you? Meet any interesting guys lately?” The way he places extra emphasis on the word ‘guys’ earns him a kick under the table from Louis. He has good intentions, but his way of telling Harry that Louis has come out is as subtle as being stabbed in the eye. 

“No, actually, I haven’t. That’s because Zayn here has set such high standards for me.” Louis slaps a hand on Zayn’s shoulder, and Harry laughs along with the others, putting Louis at ease. For now, at least. 

Louis’ comment seems to break the ice, because the conversation shifts to great movies they’ve seen since the last time they were all together, what being on TV is like for Harry, if he gets recognised on the streets, and how New York is going for the rest of them. The way Harry looks so at ease and comfortable makes things feel exactly the way they did a year ago, and it takes Louis down a nostalgic path that he usually doesn’t enjoy this much. 

“Alright, Curly,” Louis puts his beer down, leaning forward and looking Harry directly in the eye with a mischievous smile “let’s go play some pinball.”

Seemingly ignoring the more-than-obvious glances shared between the other three, Harry shrugs with the same mischievous smile and together they make their way to the pinball machine. The way he agrees so easily makes Louis’s smile grow wider as takes his place in front of the machine. Harry doesn’t dispute it. Louis _always_ goes first. And if he loses, the machine is always broken and/or Harry is always cheating. 

They’re halfway through their third game when Zayn comes over to tell them he’s leaving. Harry smiles and gives him a hug, promising to keep in touch, but Louis knows he won’t. In the months he’s been gone, all any of them have gotten from him is a total of five text messages and a phone call for Zayn’s birthday. 

“Looks like everyone else bailed.” Harry observes, glancing over at their now empty table in the middle of a game. Louis’s not sure when the other two filtered out - probably around the time Louis got told off by the manager for kicking the pinball machine while Harry giggled like a school boy. Either way, he’s now suddenly very conscious of the fact that this is the first time they’ve been truly alone since they broke up. 

“I probably should as well. After I finish this game and beat you for the fifth time.” Harry smiles. “I gotta get back to the hotel, get some sleep big day tomorrow, watching people walk down runways and whatnot.” 

“Mister Big Shot.” Louis teases, gnawing at the inside of his lip with a small smile. 

Harry does indeed win the last game, and as they walk out of the bar together, Louis can definitely feel the tension. But as awkward as it may be, he feels more comfortable than he has in a long while. They reach the street, and Harry fiddles with his hands while Louis searches his brain for some kind of witty parting line. Harry looks up, and the instant they lock eyes Louis gives up on trying to think of anything at all. 

The energy and the undeniable pull Louis feels in his chest is something he knows that Harry feels too; he can tell by the way his big eyes are looking down at him. Whatever is between them will always be there, and even though months have passed, Harry is still the only guy Louis has ever been with, and the only person he’s ever cared that much about. That kind of connection isn’t something that just goes away with distance. 

Louis isn’t sure who initiates it or how it even happens, but all he knows is he’s kissing Harry, and after being temporarily paralysed by how good and amazing and rightit feels, he realises that he’s standing in the middle of the fucking street, clinging to and kissing a guy. _The_ guy. Louis came out to his close friends months ago, but right now is the first time he’s ever really felt _out_. 

“Your place?” Harry breathes during a brief separation of their lips. Louis nods eagerly, feeling his mind starting to catch up with his body’s level of excitement and anticipation. This is real, this is happening. Harry is in New York, kissing Louis and coming back to his place with him. 

During the short walk home with Harry, all Louis can think about is getting Harry back to his bedroom, their bedroom, and never letting him leave again. TV series or not, with Louis is where Harry really belongs. Louis knows this isn’t the best way to solve their problems, or what problems they had in the past, but he knows that he may never get this chance again. For better or worse, whether it’s right or not, he wants this. 

Harry seems to want it too, because when they burst through the front door he can’t seem to get to the bedroom fast enough. Kissing the whole way there (and kicking Louis’s floordrobe out of the way), Harry smiles against Louis’ lips as they fall onto the bed. Louis is kissing Harry like he’s making up for lost time, and Harry’s kissing back just as desperately. 

“I’ve missed you” Louis mutters between kisses as Harry’s hand slides up his leg, “ _so_ much.” 

Louis’ not one for talking in bed, but he can’t help it. He’s so overwhelmed (and turned on) that it’s blocking any filter he has on the things he’s saying. Not like Louis usually thinks before he speaks, but he at least likes to not sound like such a needy bitch. 

Harry doesn’t respond, instead just kissing Louis harder and forcing his tongue further into his mouth. Louis sits up long enough to strip off his t-shirt, and Harry does the same. Then Harry’s lips are on Louis’ collarbones, sucking, his hands wandering across Louis’s stomach as Louis feels himself hardening in his jeans. Louis tugs on Harry’s curls, and revels in the way it makes Harry moan into Louis’ mouth. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed this, babe.” Louis whispers again. 

“No.” Harry manages to get out, nudging at Louis’ legs with his own. 

“What?” Louis responds absentmindedly as he begins kissing Harry’s neck, at the sweet spots he’s become so familiar with over the years. 

“No.” Harry repeats, more forcefully this time, pushing hard at Louis’ shoulder, causing him to fall off Harry and land next to him on his back. 

“What? Harry, what’s wrong?” Louis asks, hitting Harry in the ribs as he does. 

“This isn’t right, okay, you can’t do this.” Harry sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and reaching for his t-shirt. “Just because you came out doesn’t mean that everything’s okay.” 

“Seriously Harold, what the fuck, where is this coming from?” Louis sits up too, watching as Harry redresses himself completely, his heart beating loudly in his chest for a very different reason than what it was a few minutes ago. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were finally together again, one perfect night of doing things the way they used to be. Nothing felt more like that than being with Harry. But the way Harry shakes his head as he pulls on his shirt suggests that used-to-be is not where Harry is or wants to be right now. 

“Haz, talk to me.” Louis tries again, but Harry just continues to ignore him, racing out of the bedroom giving Louis barely enough time to pull on his t-shirt and chase after him. 

“Stop!” Louis demands as Harry puts his hand on the door knob. Harry turns this time, but refuses to look at Louis, his eyes fixated on the floor. “What the fuck just happened? I thought we were--”

Harry shaking his head interrupts Louis’s train of thought.

“Look, Louis, this is just too little too late, okay?” Harry sounds hurt, frustrated and angry all at once, and Louis tries to keep a straight face. But inside, he’s doing all he can to restrain his anger. It’s completely in his character to get defensive and yell about how he’s the one who bailed and gave up on them, or that he doesn’t care. But getting pissed off didn’t work last time, and he knows it will only make whatever anger Harry has towards him worse. 

“I’m done with this. With us.” Harry’s voice is much quieter now, but still just as hurt. “Move on.” 

The words hit Louis like he’s being shot in the chest.

Harry finally looks at Louis from the doorway, and the feeling Louis gets from that look is one so unfamiliar between them. Not lust, not love, not happiness, not sadness, not even anger. It’s regret. And that’s what cuts Louis the deepest. Knowing that this boy, who he would give the whole world for, regrets something that made them both so happy, even if just for a fleeting moment. 

After taking one last look around the apartment, Harry closes the door behind him, leaving a frustrated and disheartened Louis staring at the doorway with no idea what to do with himself. 

_  
—-_

  
Months pass after Harry returns to LA, and that’s about all that happens for Louis. Time just… passes. 

He’s gotten himself into a pattern - wake up, go to work (on the days he has shifts), come home, eat, feed Bruce, get halfway-wasted, sleep. And every now and then, he’ll have lunch with Liam and Zayn (and that means Louis sits and eats quietly while Liam and Zayn chatter around him). To say Louis isn’t enjoying his life anymore is an understatement, but he can’t seem to snap himself out of it. Every day just seems longer than the last.

This is the first time ever that Louis has felt like his relationship with Harry was properly over. He's definitely not prepared to live with that reality. 

The only thing Louis feels is guilt when he sees the way Zayn side eyes him when he’s sulking, and the way Liam looks down at his hands, shoulders slumped, when Louis snaps at him instead of joking around. He never wanted his friends to become apart of this, to be brought down by Louis’ stupid mistakes. 

So when Louis gets a phone call from his mother one day - Louis isn’t even sure which day it is, or which month - he plasters a smile on his face and decides he isn’t going to drag his mother down like he has his two best friends.

“Hey, mom.” Louis greets as chirpily as he can, ignoring the dull ache in his stomach. 

“Louis, my baby! Happy Thanksgiving!” Jay’s voice is warm and happy and Louis realises shit, it’s fucking Thanksgiving. He feels a pang of guilt for not calling her first, or any of his sisters, or Liam or Zayn. He may be heartbroken but he’s not a terrible person. 

“Happy Thanksgiving.” Louis repeats back to her, not nearly as enthusiastic.

“How have you been, love?” 

“I’ve been good!” Louis lies, his voice sounding way too high-pitched. He hopes his mother doesn’t pick up on it, because really, he can’t handle her asking what’s wrong right now. “How’s the girls?”

“They’re good, Fizzy’s at high school now, can you believe it!” Jay replies, and Louis feels his heart drop to his stomach. He misses his sisters, a lot, if he’s being honest, and he hates that he’s missing them growing up.

“We were talking last night,” Jay continues, “about how we’re not doing anything big for Thanksgiving. And when Phoebe asked if you were coming home for Christmas, the rest of the girls just wouldn’t shut up about it. Lottie kept asking if Zayn can come too, which, of course he’s welcome.”

Louis laughs at this, but also, ew, gross, Zayn and his sister? No thanks. He doesn’t answer though, not wanting to commit to anything other than sleeping his way through the holidays and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist. No part of Louis feels cheery or thankful, and the idea of having to pretend that he is to keep from upsetting his family is making him want to fling himself off a cliff. 

“Lou. I know it’s far and I know it’s a lot of effort, but it would really mean a lot to the girls. And to me.” 

So not fair. There’s no way Louis can say no now, not after that, because there’s no way Louis is letting down his girls, so it looks like Louis’ going to be spending Christmas in Ohio this year. 

The Paynes have a big family Christmas party at Liam’s grandparents house every year, so he leaves for Minnesota on the 20th of December and won’t be home until well into January. The Maliks are very anti-family events, and the Tomlinsons usually do something small within the family, so Louis and Zayn just celebrate by having a few beers at Zayn and Liam’s place with Bruce and Liam’s dog Loki. Louis Skype calls his sisters and mom before dinner, and they eat whatever’s leftover in Liam’s fridge. It’s low-key, it’s fun, it’s very Louis-and-Zayn. 

Travelling to Ohio to stay in Louis’ childhood home with his four sisters and his mother for a a few days is very much the opposite of low-key, and Louis knows he owes Zayn big time for agreeing to come with him. 

It’s Christmas Eve when they get there, and Louis nearly gets the life knocked out of him by his sisters before he’s even in the front door. He has Fizzy hanging off his neck, Phoebe and Daisy clung to a leg each, and Lottie trying to jump on his back. The fact that he just spent a few hours on a plane and sitting around an airport is doing absolutely nothing for his already foul mood, but even Louis Tomlinson can’t be enough of a Grinch to snap at his sisters today. 

Louis spends the rest of the day helping his sisters wrap presents, listening to his mom talk about what they’ve been up to while she prepares food, kicking around a soccer ball in the backyard with Zayn and making Lottie swear she hasn’t told anyone and will continue to not tell anyone about Louis’… lifestyle choices. 

It seems like forever before it’s finally time to go to sleep, and thank god it is, because Louis has been apathetic at best this entire day and even that has been a struggle for him. 

And then it’s Christmas fucking morning. Wonderful. 

Louis is woken at _six-fucking-thirty in the morning_ by Phoebe and Daisy jumping all over him (seriously, there’s a knee in his eye at one point) screaming that “Santa came, Santa came, Santa came!”

Christmas morning was always a big deal in Louis’ house growing up, because even though they didn’t have much money, Louis’ mom always made sure everyone got what they wanted for Christmas - within reason, of course. 

This year is no disappointment, and even Louis is taken aback when he comes downstairs, Daisy sitting on his shoulders, to find the living room filled with beautifully wrapped presents. 

“Wow, you guys really cleaned up this year.” Louis mumbles, messing up Phoebe’s hair before she goes darting towards the biggest present. 

Louis’ mom is already waiting for them, hair up and dressing gown on, looking absolutely exhausted but excited nonetheless. Lottie and Fizzy are down a few minutes later, looking just as tired as Jay but much less excited, and though there is a few small presents under the tree labelled “ZAYN”, Louis knows they won’t see him for another four hours at least. 

Within ten minutes, it looks like a bomb has hit the Tomlinson living room. A big, multicoloured bomb. 

Louis sits back on the couch, lips pressed together in a tight smile as he watches the girls squeal and giggle and grin at what they’ve unwrapped. 

Louis loves his sisters and would do absolutely anything for them, but even as happy as they are and as much as he’s missed them, all he wants to do is grab a beer or two and go back to bed. 

Unfortunately, that’s not what Jay has in mind for him, and after cleaning up all the rubbish and helping Daisy set up her new dollhouse, Louis is sent upstairs to shower and get dressed so he can help his mom prepare for dinner, which will be at _5pm and not a minute later_ , according to Jay. 

“Dinner is going to be in the next room, I think it’s gonna be pretty impossible for me to be late.” Louis grumbles, and Jay pauses from putting batteries in one of Phoebe’s new toys to shoot him a stern look. He rolls his eyes and looks down at the kitchen floor, and he’s absolutely sure this exact situation has occurred hundreds of times before, only Louis was a lot younger then and had no idea what real pain and hardship was about. 

At least he has a beer in his hand now. The first two go down pretty fast, but Jay is far too busy to notice when Louis finishes one off and starts the other. 

It’s 2pm when Zayn finally makes his way downstairs, dropping down on a stool next to Louis at the kitchen bench. 

“Bit of a sleep in, even for you Z.” Louis comments, and Zayn eyes the bottle in Louis’ hand suspiciously. 

“Woke up at 12, had to call my mom, then Daisy and Phoebe wanted me to play moms and dads with them.” Zayn replies, eyes still fixed to the near empty bottle in Louis’ grasp. 

“They just love you, Zayn.” Jay practically gushes, shooting Zayn a broad smile. Zayn blushes a little.

“They’re pretty cute.” Zayn replies with a smile. Zayn has three sisters of his own, so he’s always been really good with Louis’ sisters, a fact which Louis is especially grateful for now, when he can’t bring himself to stay in a good mood long enough to play with them and keep them entertained.

“So boys,” Jay starts as she chops some vegetables. “we haven’t had much of a chance to talk about what you’ve been up to. How’s New York, how’s Liam?”

“It’s fine” Louis replies, deadpan, at the same time that Zayn chirps “Liam’s good.”

“Liam and Zayn still live together.” Louis offers, and Zayn nods in confirmation. 

“That’s good, that’s good. Liam’s such a nice boy, isn’t he?” Jay smiles at Zayn, who mirrors her expression in response. Louis thinks Jay loves Zayn and Liam almost as much as she loves Louis sometimes. 

“You’ve only met him a couple of times, mom.” Louis mumbles, and Jay shakes her head at Louis.

“I’m a mother, Louis, I have great judgement of character. And that Liam is one of the good ones.”

Zayn just nods in agreement, and Louis rolls his eyes as soon as Jay looks away. 

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it out to see your play, I just couldn’t get the time off work, with the two weeks I had to take off when Fizzy got her tonsils out.” Jay smiles apologetically. “But I read all the reviews! They thought you boys were great.”

Louis raises his eyebrows half-heartedly, finishing off the last mouthful of his beer. He’s never cared much for reading reviews, though Liam goes through each one meticulously, making sure he doesn’t miss a single word. 

“Yeah? What did they say?” Zayn asks.

“I read something about you, Zayn, being ‘so pretty you barely even need to listen to what he’s saying to be entertained’.” Zayn laughs at this and ducks his head. “And Louis, they said you had more charisma than anyone they’d seen on the stage in years.”

Louis manages a small smile at this, and Jay stops what she’s doing to look at him with that Mom-Look. Not the one that says ‘you better run for the hills because I’m about to whoop your ass’, but the one that says ‘I am just so goddamn proud of you’. 

“We’re just so…” Jay shakes her head, looking back down at the counter with glassy eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Louis, for doing what you’re doing. But I wish you could do it here.”

“I know, mom.” Louis says softly. As much as he’s been enjoying his own space lately, he can admit it would be nice to have his mom and sisters around more often. 

They sit in silence for a bit longer, Louis inconspicuously opening another beer, Jay trying to hold herself together, and Zayn, well, Zayn’s probably asleep. Either that or he’s trying to figure out how he can get stoned without Louis’ mom or little sisters noticing.

Lottie joins them a while later, and starts talking about some boy named Luke at school and Louis makes a mental note to remember this name so he and Zayn can pay the boy a visit later. But for now he just sits in silence, the conversation around him sounding more like muffled background noise than anything else.

Fizzy, Phoebe and Daisy want to go make snowmen now, so Zayn and Louis begrudgingly put on their coats and head outside, Louis making sure to down the last few drops of his beer before he does.

They make a family of snowmen, one for each other members of the Tomlinson family as well as one for Zayn (and Zayn makes one that’s supposed to be Liam on the other side of the yard, because ‘Minnesota is really far away’). Fizzy teases Louis, saying his snowman is the ugliest because he’s not as cute as his sisters, and Phoebe throws a snowball that hits him somewhere in the thigh, but Louis just feels like he’s going through the motions. He feels like he’s on autopilot, he’s not feeling anything - not even the freezing cold weather is bothering him, but at the same time, everything is bothering him.

Zayn tugs on Louis’ elbow when they get back in the house and Louis picks up another beer almost instantly. 

“Do you think maybe you should slow down? It’s not even 4 yet, Lou.” Zayn whispers, but Louis swats him away and takes a big swig. It’s Christmas, for cripes sake. He should be allowed to have a drink or two, or… seven. Eight? Seven. Definitely seven. 

Even in his apathetic state, Louis can appreciate how amazing Christmas dinner actually looks. He has no idea how his mom has pulled this off (with a little help from Lottie), but there looks to be enough food to feed a small country. And it all looks delicious.

Dinner itself is actually fairly pleasant, and Louis proper enjoys himself, listening to the girls talk about school and their friends and what they’re going to do for the rest of the winter break. Every now and then, someone asks Zayn about his dog and Liam and what it’s like to live in New York and is Louis still the messiest person in the Northern Hemisphere, and everything feels sort of… _nice_.

“Does anybody want seconds?” Jay asks, and Louis shoots her an incredulous look as he holds his beer bottle to his lips. 

“Mother. I’m not finished. Zayn’s barely even started.” Louis points out, and Zayn gives Jay a polite smile. Stupid Zayn, always making Louis look like a bad son. 

“Mom’s just trying to rush through dinner so she can watch her show. That’s all she’s been doing lately.” Fizzy smirks as she puts another forkful of roast into her mouth. Jay lights up immediately, dropping her knife and fork to the table for dramatic effect. So _that’s_ where Louis gets it from.

“Oh, Louis, have you seen _Fireproof_?” She gushes, smiling at him across the table, and Louis feels every muscle in his body tense up. Zayn and Lottie freeze across the table and Louis can feel them watching him. “It’s just so good! I love it.”

“That’s great, mom.” Louis says quietly, taking a big gulp of his beer, but Jay seems to not pick up on his mood. His vision is starting to blur, and he’s getting very hot. He feels like he’s wearing thirty seven sweaters. 

“And that Harry Styles is so cute, you know.”

Louis swallows hard, looking at Zayn for help across the table. Zayn just bites his lip and looks at Jay, who is still babbling excitedly. Louis necks the rest of his beer with ease, feeling himself start to sweat. He wants to get up and leave so badly.

“He’s just so handsome, with his curly hair and dimples. Honestly, Lou, you need to watch it, I have all the episodes on my Netflix, we can sit down after dinner and—”

“Alright, mom, that’s great!” Louis practically shouts, voice slightly slurred, really not meaning to sound as rude as he does. “You know what, you’re telling me things about your life, let me return the favour.”

“Louis, don’t. Not like this.” Zayn warns quietly, but Louis opts to completely ignore him, pushing his chair out from the table and standing up. He’s swaying a little, so he puts his hands on the table for support. 

“I’m gay.” Louis blurts out, feeling really hot. When did it get so hot in here? Louis feels like he needs to take off his sweater or go play in the snow or something, but he focuses his energy on looking at his mom instead. “Yep. Not a joke. Your only son likes guys. Strictly into penis. Sorry, mom, but I just thought I should let you know.”

“Louis—“ Jay starts, but before she can continue or before Louis can even gage her reaction, Louis storms out of the room, taking Jay’s car keys from the front table and making the amazingly intelligent decision to go for a drive. He doesn’t know where he wants to go, but anywhere but here is good enough. 

Louis parks his mom’s beaten up car two miles outside the Ohio state line and just sits. There’s no reason for him to be here, no force driving him on, no undeniable truth he’s supposed to discover, there is just nothing. Nothing around him but a never ending road and his own self-loathing thoughts. 

It would take him 34 hours of non stop driving to get to LA from here. But Louis has nothing left to keep him going but pure adrenaline and will power alone. Will power won’t take him to LA. In fact, it’s taking all the willpower Louis has to keep him _away_ from LA. He can’t go there. But he can’t go home.

He’s not sure where home is anymore.

The life of actual, no-bullshit happiness that had once seemed so close never came. He’s not in LA, starring in successful movies and TV shows with Harry like they promised they would be. He’s not happy. He’s not even amused at his own discontent anymore. 

Louis is desperate for a way to escape. He’s had more drinks than he should considering he’s been driving, and that usually numbs any emotional pain he may have accidentally allowed to bother him. Not this time. He feels everything.

Resting his forehead against the steering wheel, Louis tries to breathe past the lump forming in his throat. He’s tired; exhausted from always running, always hiding from the feeling that he knows has caught up to him now. He can’t pretend anymore, that much he knows. 

It’s 4:58am when Louis gets back to his mom’s house. Calling it ‘home’ at this point is definitely a stretch, but Louis pushes aside the uncomfortable feeling getting into an empty bed now gives him and manages to muster just enough energy to crawl onto it. He’s in a bad way and it’s about five hours past his bed time, but his head’s swimming with thoughts that, like always, he just needs to get out. Ignoring his 16 missed calls and 21 text messages, most of which are from Zayn and Lottie, Louis pulls out his laptop. It takes a minute or two to load, and after staring blankly at the screen for a few seconds, Louis opens his Facebook account. He knows sleep is the logical option, but ranting cryptically about his personal life and how much of a fucking mess he is to people that don’t give a shit seems much more interesting at the moment.   
  
His fingers work swiftly, and his over-tired state combined with the alcohol doesn’t help his good sense. He’s pretty sure he’s typing nonsense, but he doesn’t give a fuck at this point.

 

 

 

 

 

> _ The greatest mysteries of life... Why you meet people when you do. Why certain ones get there, call you on your bullshit.  
>  Always when you least expect it and trying your fucking hardest to keep everybody the fuck away. The way my perspective of things has changed one hundred percent. To view things in way you never ever thought you would understand... _   
> 

Louis doesn’t remember pressing ‘post’ and passing out on his bed shortly after, or rather writing the post at all, but the next morning he wakes up to Zayn hitting him over the face with a cereal box and saying, “Come on, Tommo. Wake up. We’re going for a walk.”

It’s December in Ohio, for crying out loud, so a walk at 9AM when Louis is hungover and has slept for four hours and completely embarrassed himself at Christmas dinner last night is pretty much a death sentence. But Zayn doesn’t seem to care.

No one else is in the house when they head downstairs, at least not that Louis can tell, and to say he’s relieved is an understatement. He has absolutely no idea what he’s going to say to his mom when he sees her, if she even wants to talk to him that is.

Zayn and Louis get almost two blocks away from Louis’ house before either of them says anything, and naturally, it’s Zayn that speaks first.

“What the fuck, Lou.” He says quietly, his breath visible in the air. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“I don’t know.” Louis sighs. It’s the truth. “I just… She was talking about Harry and I was drunk and it just… happened.”

Zayn nods a little, and Louis knows he deserves a punch in the face for how he’s been acting lately, so the fact that Zayn’s being so understanding makes Louis feel even worse. He certainly doesn’t deserve it. 

“I was really worried about you, man. We all were. You just dropped the bombshell then went for a drunken cruise to god knows where, I mean…” Zayn’s voice trails off, and the two continue to walk in silence for a few minutes. Louis has no idea what to say, if he’s honest.

“Things have been really rough lately, Zayn.” Louis admits as they past their old high school. Louis never talks about his feelings, but after last night’s outburst, he feels it’s only necessary. The weight is becoming too much and he needs to relieve it. As much of a stupid fucking decision last night was, Louis actually feels surprisingly better this morning. “And what good was staying in the closet doing me? I mean, it’s the reason he left. And now, there’s not really much to lose.”

It takes Louis a few seconds to notice that Zayn has stopped walking and is now staring at him with narrow eyes.

“Stop, okay, because that’s bullshit.” Zayn’s tone is a lot less understanding now and a lot more aggressive. “You don’t have much to lose, really? Really, Lou? Because I think you have a fucking lot.”

Louis looks down at his shoes, swallowing hard as Zayn continues.

“Yeah, Harry’s gone. And that fucking sucks, I know. He was a good guy, and you loved him. You may deny it, but we both know you did. But you know what? You’re still fucking here. You’re still alive. You have me and Liam, who I must say, are two pretty fucking good best friends. You’ve got your sisters who absolutely worship you. I mean, you’re the biggest role model in their lives, Louis. All they want to do is be more like their amazing big brother. God knows why.” 

Louis laughs a little at that. 

“And you’ve got your mom. She’s gorgeous, Lou, and she loves you so much. She’d do anything for you, gay or straight. You’ve got a nice apartment in New York fucking City, man. You’ve been starring in plays. You’re chasing your dream, which is something a lot of people don’t get to do. You’re so fucking lucky, Louis. You are so incredibly lucky. And I know you’re upset about Haz leaving, but you may have noticed that the world hasn’t stopped turning. We’re all still here, and you’ve lived without him before, pretty happily, might I add, so you can live without him again.”

Louis takes a long moment to consider this, letting every one of Zayn’s words sink in. He’s right, Louis knows that without a doubt. 

“So what now?” Louis says after a few more moments of silence, and Zayn walks the few extra steps to catch up with him before they start walking again. He slings his arm around Louis’ shoulder.

“We go home tomorrow. Just take it one day at a time, brother.” Zayn gives Louis a reassuring smile, and fuck Louis is glad to have him. Now more than ever. 

“Where the fuck are we going, by the way?” Louis asks, looking around the snow covered streets. 

“I have no clue, but I forgot how much I hate Ohio.” Zayn responds. 

They race back to the house, laughing and pushing each other the whole way, and if Zayn lets Louis win, Louis pretends he doesn’t notice. 

 


	2. Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months later.

Any predispositions Harry had about LA disappeared as soon as he stepped off the plane. The people are nicer, the weather is warmer, and fuck, it just _smells_ better. New York wasn’t home for Harry. Louis being there and having Zayn and Liam around made it his home, and Louis’ apartment was his home, but as much as Harry tried, he could never feel content in New York as a city. It was time for him to move on, and after six months in the City of Angels he feels like he finally has a real home. 

Although, in saying that, his schedule with the TV show is crazy, and he knows its only going to get worse, so Harry doesn’t spend a lot of time at home. 

Well, not _his_ home at least.

“Wow, you are so damn good at that” Taylor laughs, her thin, pale arm brushing against Harry’s side as she rolls onto her back. Like Harry, her breathing is shallow and fast. 

Harry has always liked guys, yes, but he’s never been one for labels. If he’s attracted to a girl, he’ll date her. If he’s attracted to a guy, he’ll date him. It just so happens that he’s been attracted to a lot more guys than girls over the last few years. 

Taylor’s condo is beautiful, and fits her perfectly. Her singing career is starting to take off, and that combined with the money she gets regularly from her parents means she can afford to live in luxury. The walls are a pale shade of yellow in her bedroom, and the bed is much larger than it needs to be considering she’s only one skinny girl. She has way too many cushions on her bed - Harry finds it more of a distraction and a nuisance than anything else, but it’s comfortable and it’s inviting and Harry enjoys spending his free time there.

Harry smiles back at Taylor, but his cell phone vibrating on the side table stops him from saying anything back. Is it bad form to answer your phone after sex? Taylor doesn't seem to notice, however, too busy getting her breathing back to normal, so Harry waits for the phone to stop ringing, then checks who it was.

 

> **Louis Tomlinson**  
>  Missed call 

“Who is it?” Taylor’s voice interrupts Harry, who, to be honest, isn’t even thinking at this point. He’s just staring at Louis’ name, wondering what he possibly could be calling to say. One thing about Louis is that he’s the most stubborn person in the entire world. So if he’s calling Harry, it’s not for no reason. He wouldn’t reach out unless it was important. 

“I’ll take that silence to mean that it’s... your ex, right?” 

Harry nods slowly, throwing his phone back onto the side table and trying to push the curiosity out of his mind. Taylor doesn’t know much about Harry’s life in New York, and she certainly doesn’t know about Louis. She knows that Harry came from money, lived in New York for a while to kick start his acting career, and moved to LA when he got offered his role on _Fireproof._ She knows he’s dated boys as well as girls, she knows he had a long term relationship that ended not that long ago, but she has never heard the name ‘Louis’ mentioned by Harry before. 

Fuck, Louis can’t do this. He doesn’t have the right to do this, after everything that’s happened, after everything he said. Everything he _couldn’t_ say.

“Are you gonna call him-slash-her-slash-I-don’t-know back?” Harry looks over at Taylor, and realises the girl is looking pretty fucking hurt, even if she’s trying not to be. Her blue eyes don’t part from Harry’s, and eventually Harry just shakes his head, rolling over on top of his girlfriend with a smile.

Louis doesn’t have control over Harry’s heart anymore. He gave up that right when he let Harry leave. 

Harry leans down to kiss Taylor’s neck, but Taylor stops him, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing.

“We can’t. My dad wants to have lunch with us today so we need to get ready.” Taylor gives Harry an adorable half smile, but Harry doesn’t notice.

“ _Us_?” He repeats, giving Taylor an incredulous look. “What do you mean _us_?”

“I mean, I would like my father to meet the first actual boyfriend I’ve had in years. It’s really important to me.” She pouts, and it’s adorable and Harry can’t resist.

Scott Swift is the nicest dad Harry has ever met. He has an intangible warmth about him, from the way he shakes Harry’s hand to the way he puts his arm around Taylor and tells her how proud he is. The lunch actually goes really well, with conversation running smoothly and Taylor clearly pleased that Harry’s there, but Harry still feels fucking uncomfortable. 

Harry’s never met anyone's father before, not as a boyfriend. Louis never even talked about his. And suddenly everything seems so serious and real. So he’s totally relieved when Taylor mentions they have to head off because she has work to do so she’ll catch up with her dad later, and with a smile and a hug to each of them, Scott leaves. 

“Are you okay? You seemed a little tense.” Taylor asks with genuine concern once they’re in the parking lot, resting her hands on his boyfriend’s arms.  

Harry swallows hard, and forces a smile. “I’m just tired.”

“Well you better find some energy, I need to thank you later for being so cool about my dad.” Taylor gives Harry a cheeky smile, leaning in to kiss him. 

Harry laughs and closes his eyes, feeling Taylor’s breath on his neck.

“I love you.” 

Suddenly, Harry’s eyes snap open, and he stares at a tree behind Taylor, shocked. Taylor has never said that before. _Harry_ has never said that before. Not to Taylor. 

He can feel how uncomfortable Taylor is even without looking at her, so he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Thank you.”

Taylor looks hurt and confused as Harry pulls away from her, so Harry continues, “I really like you, and I love spending time with you. But I don’t believe in love. Bad past experiences, I guess. I’ve never loved anyone before.”

Part of that statement is a blatant lie, and it leaves Harry wondering whether it was a lie when Louis said it, too. 

—-

Harry is sitting on his own bed now, chewing on his bottom lip and staring at his cell phone, which is laying on the bed in front of him. Minutes pass, literally, and all he’s doing is staring at the phone, one question ringing through his mind.

_Why on earth did Louis call him?_  

Was somebody dying? Is he moving to LA? Was he drunk? It was 12PM New York time when he’d called which is before what Louis considers an appropriate time to be up on a Sunday, so maybe it was important. 

Harry’s not even sure how it happens but before he knows it, his phone is pressed to his ear and it’s ringing. It’s ringing and it’s Louis that he’s calling. Harry suddenly feels sick as he realises that maybe Louis called him accidentally. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to talk to him at all. But he doesn’t have time to entertain that idea any longer, because the phone has stopped ringing now. Shit. 

“Harry?” It just now hits Harry that this is the first time in months he’s spoken to Louis. 

“Louis, hi.” Harry breathes. Yep. _Breathes_. He sounds so pathetic and pitiful that he just wants to bury himself in the ground. “You called me?”

Brilliant. Harry is practically a wordsmith.

“Yeah.” Louis replies, equally as brilliant, but making Harry feel sufficiently less stupid. 

“Why?” Harry asks slowly when Louis doesn’t continue any further. It’s all very awkward and Harry sort of wants to just hang up and pretend it never happened. 

“I just… uh, I was awake.” It just keeps getting better. Harry is about to start laughing to himself, but Louis seems to be finding his stride again, the initial shock of the phone call wearing off.“And. Well, I was watching _Breaking Bad_. And it’s really good, like really really good, and I know we haven’t spoken in a while— months, actually, but I thought I’d call you and maybe tell you that it’s good. _Breaking Bad_ , that is. It’s a really good show, yep, I said that a lot I know, but it is, it’s bloody brilliant, and I think you’d really like it. If you haven’t already seen it, that is.”

Having not heard Louis speak in months, Harry forgot what it was like to hear him talk about something he really enjoys. Even now, after everything Louis did to him, Harry still finds it totally endearing.

“Well, you haven’t failed me before.” Harry admits, smiling to himself. It’s true. Louis not only knew Harry better than anyone, but he had unquestionably good taste in TV shows and movies. 

“No, that’s right, I haven’t, so you should trust me and go buy it on DVD. Or illegally download it, if you’ve still got enough New York bad-boy street cred in you to do things like that.”

Harry’s laughing now, a full on Harry Styles giggle. Harry always trusted Louis, without question and without hesitation. Maybe that’s what their problem was, in the end, that he trusted Louis too much and let things get too far because of it. He doesn’t get to ponder this much though, because Louis keeps talking.

“So you’ll watch it?”

“Yes, I’ll watch it.” Harry agrees.

“Good. And call me back when you do. Or text me, whatever tickles your pickle. I’m just dying to know what you think. Oh and pay attention to Skyler! I wanna know if you hate her as much as I do.”

“I probably won’t” Harry says, just as Louis says “You most definitely won’t” over the top of him, causing them both to laugh. Harry never hates anyone. It’s just a written and known fact of life, really. 

“I’ll text you. Or something.” Harry reassures Louis, and he hears Louis let out a happy sigh from the other end of the phone.

“Well then my work here is done. Enriching the lives of others and such. It’s been a pleasure as always, Curly.”

Harry tenses up at the use of the fond nickname, but forces out a “Talk to you later, Louis.” before hanging up. It takes Harry minutes to return his breathing back to normal, and he’s sure it’s not medically safe that he’s feeling this way, but he wasn’t lying. He will talk to Louis later. He’s looking forward to it already.

  
—-

  
It’s nine o’clock the next night before Harry gets home from set, unable to keep a smile from his face. He shot some really good scenes today and managed to have a nice lunch with Taylor, so it turned out to be a pretty good day. 

“You were right” is all he says when Louis answers his phone.

“I always am, you know.” Louis sounds smug. “I’ll take that to mean you watched _Breaking Bad_?”

Harry had spent every available second watching _Breaking Bad_ , actually. While he was getting his make up and hair done, in between scenes, when he was eating breakfast and lunch, even when he was showering. He shouldn’t be surprised that he had already become addicted, considering that Louis thought it worth to go out of his way to call Harry after all this time over it. 

“I did. I loved it. Even though you know I don’t usually like that kind of show.” Harry can practically hear Louis nodding through the phone in a way that says “of course, continue.” Harry has never been one for watching movies or TV shows that aren’t comedies or animated. He likes a happy ending. “I’m gonna go ahead and guess that Jesse is your favourite?”

“Jesse is awesome!” Louis replies almost instantly, and Harry grins to himself at the knowledge that he still knows Louis as well as Louis knows him. 

Harry walks through the door of his bedroom and immediately drops onto his obscenely large bed. It’s good to be home. Taylor had wanted him to stay at her place again tonight, but Harry made an excuse about being too tired and needing to sort out some stuff at home. Really, he’d just been super excited all day to call Louis like he’d said he would to report back about _Breaking Bad_.

Harry’s LA condo is vastly different to his New York apartment. Now that he’s off on his own, officially financially independent, he puts a lot more thought into what kind of furniture he buys and where he puts things. This condo feels like home. It has two floors, a dark, expansive kitchen that Harry loves utilising, there’s two spare bedrooms (he’s still secretly hoping Niall or Liam or Zayn will come visit him) and there’s a freestanding fireplace in the middle of the large living room. He has the painting Zayn made him of the words “don’t forget where you belong” that he’d gifted as a going away present above his bed. It’s his favourite part of the house, if Harry’s being honest. He has a balcony with a beautiful view from which he drinks his tea every morning, and occasionally when Harry hasn’t had time to clean up in a few days and he sees a pair of dirty socks on the floor or a mess of scripts on his kitchen counter, he thinks the whole thing is almost perfect.

“I can’t believe you live in LA and work on a TV series and no one’s gotten you on to _Breaking Bad_ yet.” Louis continues, Harry rolling around on his bed slowly with the phone still pressed to his ear.

“They’ve tried to, I just don’t trust anyone out here.” Harry replies, not at all lying. “I think I’m yet to meet a person that still has their real nose.”

Louis laughs. “Ah, LA. It ain’t New York, that’s for sure.”

“No, it certainly isn’t.” Harry agrees, feeling a pang in his chest that he thinks might be homesickness - well, not _home_ sickness. Connecticut is his home, technically. But times like this, Harry misses New York. 

“I know what you’re thinking, Haz, and you’re right. You’re missing out on so much, being in LA. A guy on the subway licked my neck today, and Liam swears there’s a rat in his and Zayn’s apartment.” Harry begins to laugh so hard at the mental image this is giving him that his stomach hurts, but Louis continues. “Just think, that could be you!” 

They fall into an easy rhythm after that, Louis teasing Harry and chatting about whatever while Harry closes his eyes and smiles. It feels good, talking to Louis like this. Makes Harry think that maybe they don’t have to be all complicated and angst, maybe they can just be _friends._

Midnight rolls around ridiculously fast, and with a disappointed sigh, Harry realises he should probably stop talking to Louis and get some sleep, being that he’s an adult with a proper job and all that stuff. 

“Sorry Lou, but I better head off.” Harry says, standing from his bed to walk to the bathroom. 

“Yeah, yeah, me too. At this rate I’m only going to get like nine hours sleep tonight.” Louis replies, and Harry rolls his eyes even though Louis can’t see him. He would be disappointed at the lack of resistance Louis is giving to ending the phone call, but he’s too grateful to care. 

Harry falls asleep that night with a big, dimpled smile on his face. He’s just happy to be able to talk to his best friend again, is all. 

  
—-  
 

Harry leans out from behind a display of candy bars, nearly knocking the whole thing over in the process. _Of course_. He reaches out to steady everything, and manages to narrowly save himself from public embarrassment. 

He looks up in time to notice that a few of the paps taking a couple of photos anyway. Fucking dicks.  

Harry ducks back behind the display and turns into the confectionary aisle before realising that absolutely nothing he needs from the supermarket is in this aisle. It’s all located on the other side of the store, actually, but Harry’s been too busy playing a game of cat and mouse with photographers to be able to focus on his groceries. 

He quickly darts into the next aisle over just as his phone starts to vibrate against his ass. He pulls it out of his pocket and almost misses the call, initially too shocked at who it is to answer. He manages to catch it on the fourth ring, however.

“Mom?”

“Harry, how are you?” Anne’s voice is loud and enthusiastic and Harry is already suspicious.

Harry loves his mother to death, appreciates everything she’s ever done for him, and he knows she loves him too. But their relationship has always been the kind that is best if they are far away from each other with limited contact.

“Hi little brother!” Harry hears Gemma yell from in the background, and a small smile plays on his lips. 

“Tell Gem I said hi back.” Harry pulls down the peak of his baseball cap a little further. “Um, I’m good, just trying to avoid paparazzi, strangely enough.”

“That’s what I called to talk to you about, actually!” 

“Hmm?” Harry replies absent-mindedly, suddenly very disinterested in the conversation as he scans the wall of products in front of him for his favourite kind of cereal. 

“I was at the salon getting my hair done yesterday and you were on the cover of a copy of _People_ magazine they had laying around. Beautiful picture baby, you looked gorgeous. So grown up. Hair’s getting a bit long though, you might need to sort that out.” Anne says in a typical mother voice.

There it is. Good old Cap’n Crunch. 

“I like my hair.” Harry pouts. “Is that really why you called?”

“No, no, of course not.” Anne rushes. “I just wanted to say that we’re _so_ proud of you for all your success, honey. You’re doing so well for yourself.”

Harry wants to bite back with “you weren’t saying that a year ago when you crashed into mine and Louis’ life in New York and let dad verbally abuse me about my life choices” but then he remembers that he’s 21 and an adult now and his mom, bless her, only does the things she does for the sake of her family and her marriage. Harry should be grateful to have such a dedicated mother.

So a simple “Thanks, mom.” is what he says instead. 

“And I see that I saw you have a girlfriend now!”

Harry freezes, shutting his eyes tightly. He doesn’t have the time nor the inclination to have yet another conversation about his sexuality with his mother. 

“Yeah, her name’s Taylor.” Harry explains. “We’ve been together for a few months. She’s really sweet, I think you’d approve.”

“She’s very pretty.” Harry hears the flicking of pages, and he imagines that his mom is looking at the pictures of Harry and Taylor right now. 

“You’re prettier, Harry!” Gemma calls through the phone. Anne shushes her, but Harry giggles. “I just can’t believe Taylor’s a girl, I was well convinced you were strictly playing for the other team now.”

Anne huffs and Harry hears what sounds like Anne swatting her daughter away with a magazine.

“Yes, well, Gemma’s comments aside, I’m glad you’re giving girls another go.”

“I’m not, I mean…” Harry sighs. “It’s complicated. Sexuality is like a continuum, it’s not really like a black and white sort of thing.”

“Either way, you must bring her to Connecticut. Your father and I are just dying to meet her.”

Harry’s grip tightens around the handles of his shopping basket. He knows he should be happy about this, and on some level he is - but mostly, he’s just really, really frustrated. 

“Nana’s birthday is coming up, and you know she misses you so much. Maybe you could fly over for the weekend and bring Taylor.” Anne continues, but Harry remains stuck to his place on the supermarket floor, breathing getting faster and face getting hotter. 

He loves that his parents are expressing an interest in his personal life. But the fact is, they never acted this way when Harry was with Louis.

Anne and Des hadn’t known about Harry’s relationship with Louis when they surprised him in Louis’ apartment that day, but they certainly knew about it afterwards. And Harry hadn’t heard a peep from either of them until he called Gemma to tell her when he got cast in _Fireproof_ and had broken up with Louis all of a sudden they were back on Team Harry again. 

Harry would’ve cut out organs for his parents to at any point show him and Louis an eighth of the support they are already showing for Harry’s relationship with Taylor. So he can’t help but be bitter about the fact that Anne and Des have given Taylor their stamp of approval when they know nothing about her or her relationship with their son despite the fact that she’s a she.

“Probably not, mom, Taylor’s really busy with work. She’s a singer so she has a tight schedule.” Harry lies - well, it’s not entirely a lie. Taylor does have a tight schedule. But if he asked her, Harry knows she’d make time to visit the Styles family with him. 

“Well, that’s a shame.” Anne replies. Harry’s finally making some headway with his shopping list. “Maybe another time, Christmas or something.”

“Maybe.” Harry responds simply, no energy left to keep blowing his mother off for things that aren’t going to happen for several more months. 

“I'm still a bit sad that we didn't get to see you for your birthday, you know. 21 is a big year!” Harry feels a pang of guilt from the tone of Anne’s voice. She sounds a little upset now.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Harry frowns to himself as he picks up a dozen eggs - the last item on his list. He needs to face the photographers again soon. “But I didn’t really do anything. I only have a few friends here, and it felt like, a bit weird having a big party with a bunch of people I don’t know.”

“But we would’ve flown out! Me and Gems and your father, and Niall and his family. It would’ve been lovely.” Harry imagines Anne is practically pouting right now, but he can’t say he’s disappointed that he missed out on that kind of party. Except the Niall and Gemma part. 

“I know, but it just wasn’t a good time. Maybe next year, when I’m more settled.” Harry reasons as he scans his items through self checkout. 

“Well that would be lovely, Harry.”

“Sorry mom, I’ve gotta go fight off a hoard of aggressive middle-aged men with cameras. I’ll speak to you later.” Harry hangs up the phone and shoves it back in his pocket as he exits the store.

Harry’s publicist emails him a screenshot the next day of a website headline that reads “Harry Styles’ clumsy shopping trip” complete with a series of pictures of Harry struggling to steady a shelf full of candy and then abandoning the scene of the crime. Awesome.

  
—-

  
Harry hates night shoots. 

He hates having to wait around for his call time, sitting in his trailer bored out of his brains. He wishes he was at home, on his couch in his living room. Not that his trailer isn’t comfortable - really, it is - but it’s not very homely, and there’s constantly people moving around outside and knocking on the door to ask him questions. 

It’s 8:24PM, and Harry’s just finished watching an episode of _Breaking Bad_ when he feels his phone vibrate against his leg, and though he is undeniably a little disappointed that it’s not a message from Louis, he can’t help but grin when he reads;

 

 

> **Niall**   
>  iMessage  
> 

Harry unlocks his phone to find it’s a picture message. Before he even enlarges it and reads the caption, he’s already laughing. 

 

>   
>  _We’re all missing you loads Harry!_   
>  _New York is cold as FUCK ahah !_

Harry’s grin remains, but he feels that same pang of sadness he felt a few days ago when he was on the phone to Louis. He didn’t know that Niall was visiting the boys at the moment, and he can’t help but wonder if Niall will ever come and visit him in California. He knows that going to New York for the weekend from Connecticut is a lot easier than going to LA, and he knows it was his choice to move to the other side of the country, but still, Harry can’t help but feel jealous. His best friend in the world is having fun with his other three best friends, one of which happens to be the boy that Harry spent a long time being in love with. 

It’s not fair, Harry decides. It’s not fair that California has to be so far away from New York, and the geography people should move it closer. Harry is halfway through typing “How to move a US state to the other coast” into Google when his phone rings, and this time it is Louis. Harry almost misses the call, too busy giggling to himself at the photo of Louis that comes up when he calls. It’s a selfie Louis took one time when he stole Harry’s phone, and it’s both positively adorable and also one of the ugliest things Harry has ever seen.

“Hey!” Harry chirps, leaning back on the couch.

“Saludos, Harry. ¿Cómo estás hoy mi amor ?” 

Harry immediately bursts out laughing, and he hears Louis laughing on the other end of the line too.

“What on Earth was that?” Harry asks, still laughing.

“I just got cast in a play that requires me to speak Spanish in a few scenes.” Louis explains.

“Nice, so you’re still getting work I see?” Harry smiles. 

“Don’t sound so surprised Harold!” Louis protests. Harry giggles again. He isn’t surprised, if he’s honest. Louis is an amazing actor, but Harry knows firsthand it can be hard to find work sometimes. He’s more than relieved that Louis is still getting acting gigs. 

“Sorry. You’re a brilliant actor. The Tom Cruise of our generation.” Harry, struggling to hold back his laughter, clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Tom Cr— Harry, he’s like five foot five and really weird!” Louis sounds outraged, and Harry can’t help but let a little laughter escape his lips.

“Yeah, but as an actor, solid, solid talent.” Harry presses his lips together and fights to keep his composure.

“You know who else is a solid talent? Brad Pitt. Leo DiCaprio. You couldn’t have compared me to them? Jesus, Harry, I thought we were friends.”

Harry is fully laughing now, and even though he can’t see him, he knows Louis is smiling too.

“I got Niall’s picture message. I thought you would be with the boys right now.” Harry grabs his TV remote from the coffee table and starts fiddling with the back of it. Something to distract him from the idea of his best friends having fun without him.

“Snuck off for a few. They were talking about Zayn’s latest conquest, it was starting to make me feel ill. I’m telling you, Harold, a vagina should not be talked about in that much detail.”

Harry groans, grossed out, but he can’t help but laugh. Typical of Zayn and Niall, he thinks.

“One of the many perks of being out and gay, I feel. Not having to participate in vagina talk.” Louis barely finishes his sentence before Harry is busting out in giggles again. Call him immature, but it’s just something about the way Louis says the word ‘vagina’. 

“Good to see you’re embracing the whole being out thing.” Harry smiles.

“Yeah, who knew it could be so handy?” Louis says with a sigh. “Speaking of, random question, but, when did you come out? I only just now realised that you never told me your story.”

Harry swallows hard, his stomach turning just at the thought of it. He doesn’t really want to get into it, but this is Louis. Louis knows almost everything there is to know about Harry, and Harry likes it that way. What’s the worst that could happen by telling him?

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I was just curious.” Louis says hastily, having apparently noticed Harry’s hesitation.

“No, no, it’s okay. I want to tell you.” Harry kicks at the legs of his coffee table. Here goes nothing. 

“So, um, the first person I ever told was Niall, when I was 12. That was when I knew for sure that I liked boys. Dunno why, but I just knew, even from an early age. I looked at boys in a way my parents made me think was wrong. And Niall just seemed so… well, you know Niall.” Harry hears Louis chuckle softly on the other end of the call. “He’s probably the least judgmental human ever. He felt safe. And he was really good about it, didn’t tell anyone, just told me he still loved me all the same.

“Gemma was next. I told her when I was 13 or 14. She’d just told me that she taken drugs for the first time and was too scared to tell mom and dad, so I told her I was gay to make her feel better. But my parents…” Harry takes a deep breath. “Well. You’ve met my dad. My mom knew I was gay before I even knew what it meant. She saw me try to kiss our next door neighbour Tom when I was seven. But she just told me not to do it again, and that was the last she said of it. Swept it under the rug, like she does about everything she knows my dad would disapprove of. She didn’t want to upset him.

“Then when I was 17, there was this guy, and I really liked him. So much that I let him fuck me. That’s when I knew I had to tell my parents. I was fucking petrified. Never been so scared in my life… But Niall told me he’d be there, talk to them with me. Glad he was there, the way my dad reacted…”

Harry closes his eyes, letting out three deep breaths as he feels his insides knotting and his face starting to get hot. There’s a reason he doesn’t just offer this story out as a random anecdote in everyday conversation. In fact, this is the first time he’s ever really _told_ someone the story. He swallows hard before continuing.

“He told me to stop being stupid. That I was just pretending to be gay to piss him off and act out, because there was no way in hell any son of his could turn out this _wrong_.”

Louis’ breathing is deep and loud now, but Harry doesn’t give it much thought. He’s too busy trying to stop his lip from quivering and his eyes from spilling tears. 

“I didn’t know what to say. I thought maybe he was right. Maybe I was just… broken. Needed to be fixed. But then Niall stood up. He yelled at my dad. Told him that he’s lucky I turned out the way I did because I’m the best person he knows, and that Des should be ashamed of himself for not being proud of me. That anyone that closed-minded is the fucked up one, not me.” 

Harry lets out a wobbly laugh. “Still to this day, it’s the only time in my life I’ve seen Niall yell at someone.

“I stayed at his place for a few days after that. My parents, they didn’t… they didn’t want me, and Niall didn’t feel comfortable letting me stay in the same house as them anyway. But they told me I could come home again if I applied for Stanford.

“I never wanted to go to Stanford. Never really wanted to go to college at all, really. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, but I just never saw myself going to college. But I applied anyway, because it’s what my parents wanted. I just wanted them to be proud of me, you know?”

Harry takes another three deep breaths. _Keep it together, Harry,_ he tells himself. _It’s okay_. 

“But I got rejected. The only reason I graduated high school is because my parents gave my school hundreds of thousands in donations. No amount of money in the world could get me into Stanford with my grades being what they were.

“That’s when I really just sat down and thought about it all. Thought about my future and what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be, and I knew I couldn’t be that person if I was anywhere near my parents. So I packed up all my things, and before I knew it, I was living in New York.”

Harry walks over to the fridge, retrieving one of the bottles of water and downing almost the entire thing.

“Wow.” Louis says. “Harry… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry.” Harry’s voice is soft now. “I’m glad I told you. I haven’t really spoken about it before, I think I needed to. Cathartic, you know.”

“I hate that all that stuff happened to you. Your dad…” Louis lets out a huff. “I swear, Haz, if I ever see him again, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“He just doesn’t understand.” Harry reasons. “He’s ignorant. He doesn’t get it and he doesn’t want to. But I don’t need him, not really. I’ve got a better family now.”

“That you do.” Harry can hear the smile in Louis’ voice. “And your new family will never let you feel that way again.”

Harry has never doubted that for a second.

“So I’m thinking about rearranging my living room.” Louis announces out of nowhere, and Harry frowns immediately at the idea (though he is grateful for the change in conversation topic). It’s not in an insensitive way, that Louis shifts the mood so suddenly. He knows he’s trying to cheer Harry up through the means of distracting him, and Harry appreciates it a lot. 

“No.” 

“No?” Louis scoffs. 

“Yes, that’s right, I said no.” Harry repeats. 

“But I was reading that stupid feng shui book you left here and it really got me thinking.”

“I think you should leave everything as it is.” Harry is aware he sounds like a petulant child but he doesn’t care.

“And why’s that, Curly?” Louis sounds amused, but to be honest, Harry’s a little stressed at the idea of Louis changing his apartment, and it no longer looking the same as it did when Harry practically lived there. 

“Just don’t change it.” Harry huffs, feeling himself deflate. “Your apartment is perfect as it is.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome, isn’t it.” Louis’ voice is soft, and Harry closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath.

Harry starts to picture Louis’ apartment now, starts to see Bruce snoring on the couch, Zayn’s artwork, the mess, the unmade bed, the exposed brick walls. It’s a dangerous road to go down, because Harry had the time of his life in that apartment. The days he spent over the course of that year drinking at the tiny dining table with Liam and Zayn, cooking for Louis, watching movies, drinking tea, having sex on every available surface, playing with Bruce, waking up in the morning with his nose pressed into Louis’ hair. If Harry’s an old man someday, laying on his deathbed, those are the moments he’s going to think about.

Louis’ apartment had been his home, and it makes Harry’s insides ache to think of his home being unrecognisable to him, even if it’s been the better part of a year since he was last there.

“Alright.” Louis interrupts Harry’s thoughts, not a moment too soon. “The layout stays. But I should probably clean it one of these days.”

“When was the last time you cleaned it?” Harry screws up his nose, but a smile plays on his lips.

“Uhhh…” Louis starts. “When was the last time _you_ cleaned it?”

Harry gapes for a moment before dissolving into giggles. “Louis! You haven’t cleaned your apartment at all?!” 

“Hey, hey, in my defence…” Harry waits for Louis to finish his sentence, but he can practically hear Louis struggling to make an excuse. “Okay, so it’s pretty gross that I haven’t cleaned it. But it’s not _that_ bad.”

“Two rotten peppers and a melted popsicle.” Harry recites, and Louis bursts out laughing. It’s not often that Harry is the one that makes Louis laugh out loud, but when he does, Harry feels so proud it’s like his heart is smiling. 

“That was pretty disgusting, I will admit. But you know I don’t cook, so what use do I have for a vegetable crisper?”

“Why was there ever a popsicle in the vegetable crisper in the first place?” Harry fires back with a giggle, recalling the day he had cleaned out Louis’ fridge and been absolutely disgusted with what he found. 

“Why was there ever a _vegetable crisper_ in the first place?” Louis retorts. “I swear, if I ever get rich, the first thing I’m doing is hiring a personal chef.”

Harry feels a little upset by this idea, and he’s not entirely sure why. Yes, he used to cook for Louis all the time, but that’s not his job anymore. It’s been a year since they broke up, did Harry just expect that Louis was going to starve for the rest of his life?

“My manager was trying to convince me to hire a nutritionist the other day.” Harry comments absent-mindedly, now fiddling with the zipper on his couch pillows. Louis scoffs.

“Yes, Harold, we all know you’re very rich and important now.” Harry can practically hear him rolling his eyes. Someone’s knocking on Harry’s door and talking about it being his call time now.

“Speaking of which, I have to go to work. Tonight I have to punch an extra in the face.” Harry sighs. 

“Use method acting. Relive that night you got wasted and punched me for no reason.” Harry can hear the smile in Louis’ voice. That night had not been one of Harry’s shining moments.

“You’re the worst.” Harry laughs softly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

It’s not just Harry being polite, it’s a promise.

_  
—-_

  
“ _Love Actually_ or _Notting Hill_?” 

Harry stares at his cellphone, which hasn’t received a call in three days. Maybe it’s broken. Maybe he should get his manager to call the AT&T people and get it fixed. 

“Harry, are you listening?”

He’s not. 

“ _Love Actually,_ or _Notting Hill_?”

Harry’s really sick of Hugh Grant’s face, if he’s honest. And that’s something he thought he’d _never_ say.

But regardless, “ _Notting Hill_ ” is what he says with a smile, finally breaking his gaze from his cellphone. Stupid, broken cellphone.

“We haven’t watched _Love Actually_ yet, and it’s my favourite.” Taylor pouts as she crawls back onto the bed, having put _Notting Hill_ in the DVD player.

“Yeah, I hate that movie.” Harry lies. 

He loves _Love Actually_ , and has been known to sing God Only Knows quite often, whether it be softly to himself when he can’t sleep or at the top of his lungs in the car. But he’d watched Love Actually for the first time (and the second, third and fourth) with Louis. It doesn’t feel right violating the traditions and little relationship quirks he’d forged with Louis by doing them with someone else. 

So _Notting Hill_ it is.

They get fifteen minutes into the movie when Harry’s cellphone starts vibrating against his leg. He jumps so high that he nearly tosses Taylor off the bed and onto the floor, scrambling to retrieve his phone from the mess of sheets.

It’s Louis. 

Harry hastily presses the button to silence the call, and chances a glance at Taylor. She’s cursing at Harry under her breath, but she’s snuggled back into the pillows. It doesn’t seem she’s noticed what made him jump. 

Harry waits exactly ninety-seven seconds (he counts in his head) before making a move.

“I’ll be back, I just realised I left my charger in the car.” Harry says with a dramatic sigh Louis would be proud of, lifting himself off the bed and skipping out of the bedroom before Taylor has a chance to question him. 

Harry pretty much prances down to the garage. He feels guilty about lying to Taylor - really, he does, she doesn’t deserve it - but he thinks it would be too weird to say he needs to leave the room while they’re spending quality couple time together to call his ex-boyfriend. 

One he’s securely in the front seat of his car, Harry pulls out his phone and calls Louis back. 

It barely rings once.

“Now what could you possibly be doing at this late hour that you wouldn’t answer your phone?” Louis says by way of greeting. Harry’s already smiling ear to ear. “I know my time zones, Harold, it’s 11pm in LA. On a Monday. And you couldn’t have been masturbating, you do that in the shower in the morning.”

Harry feels his cheeks flush as he lets out an uncontrollable giggle. 

“And let’s be honest, you’d probably answer the phone if that’s what you were doing.”

“You’re not wrong.” Harry laughs. He bites his lip. “What’s with this waiting three days to call nonsense?”

“ _Waiting three days_? My apologies, Haz, I didn’t realise you were waiting by the phone.” Louis’ tone is slightly sarcastic and teasing, and Harry’s stomach immediately starts knotting at this. 

He’s being stupid. So, so stupid. There’s absolutely no reason Louis would have to call him at some point in the last three days. Of course there isn’t, they’re _ex-boyfriends_. So why had Harry been expecting him to?

“Right. Sorry.” Harry says quietly.

“Don’t mope, Curly, I’m only joking.” Louis replies with a small laugh, and instantly Harry feels better. It’s almost dangerous how much of an effect Louis has on Harry’s moods. That happens with exes though, Harry supposes. 

“So how was your day?” Louis asks, and Harry leans back so he’s proper comfortable in his seat. “Do lots of glamorous things?”

“Totally.” Harry says with a smirk. “I did a _table read_!”

“Oh Mylanta, I am awfully impressed!” Louis says in a ridiculous fake accent, causing Harry to burst into giggles. “You live a fabulous life, don’t you, Harry Styles?”

“I do alright for myself.” Harry answers, still smiling. “What about you, what kind of glamor was New York City offering today?”

“Well. We taught Liam what twerking is.” 

Harry immediately bursts out laughing. The noise he makes is almost inhuman, like the kind of noise a cat would make if you kicked it. He’d be embarrassed, but honestly, it’s nothing Louis hasn’t heard from him before. 

“You win.” Harry manages through his laughter.

“Yes, I do.” Louis says, laughing along with him, though in a much less embarrassing manner.

“Why do you do that to me?” Harry moans after his laughter has died down.

“Do what?” Louis asks.

“Make me laugh so hard that I sound like a dying goat.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why you always sound like some sort of animal in pain when you laugh at my jokes, what is that?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Harry says with a chuckle. 

He starts playing with the automatic window buttons, even though the car isn’t on so it achieves nothing. He just needs something to fiddle with while he talks to Louis. It distracts him from thinking too much. 

“So you know how my taste in movies and music and pretty much everything is completely unquestionable?” Harry nods, even though Louis can’t see him. “Well, I think you should go see The Amazing Spiderman 2. I saw it with Liam and Zayn last night and it, just, ugh. Well, you know how I feel about Spiderman.”

“It’s awesome isn’t it, I went to see it with Taylor a few days ago.” Harry says without even giving his words a second thought. 

“Who’s Taylor? Wait, boy or girl?” Louis asks, and Harry suddenly feels like he wants to throw up.

“Girl,” Harry responds slowly. “Girl _friend_ , actually.”

Louis doesn’t say anything for a few moments, and Harry figures he won’t anytime soon, so he continues. “She’s a singer. Pretty good one actually. Country music though, I don’t think you’d like her stuff. We met at a party, she’s friends with Lucy so that’s how she ended up at the same party as me. And my agent introduced me to her, then, I dunno, we started dating. I still consider myself _gay_ , I just, I dunno. Sometimes girls are nice too.”

“I asked for her gender, Haz, not her life story.” Louis responds rather curtly, and Harry feels his cheeks flushing. 

“Sorry. Sorry, I just, um, sorry.” That’s all Harry can manage to say. And he _is_ sorry. He just can’t figure out why. Louis is Harry’s ex-boyfriend, Louis let Harry walk away, and they’ve been broken up for the better part of a year. Harry shouldn’t be apologising for the fact that he’s moved on. 

“It is what it is” Louis replies, the shift in his mood blatantly obvious. Harry feels relieved, though. Guilty, for some bizarre reason, but relieved. He felt like he was lying to Louis by not talking about Taylor. Sure, Louis hadn’t asked if he was seeing anyone, and she hadn’t come up in conversation organically until now, but Harry hadn’t exactly offered up the information that he was in a relationship. 

“It’s weird, I guess. Having a girlfriend.” Harry continues, entirely unsure of why he’s decided that talking about his new girlfriend to his ex-boyfriend is a good idea. “I haven’t had a girlfriend since I was 16.”

This makes Louis laugh a little, causing Harry to feel more at ease. “Can’t say I know what you mean. I haven’t had a girlfriend in a long time. Dating you wasn’t all that different to dating girls. Just easier, and better. I think that was because it was you though, not because you have a dick. It’s just a different hole at the end of the day.”

“That’s the thing I miss most about having sex with a guy.” Harry sighs, and he can hear Louis shifting around on the other end, causing Harry to wonder if he’ll get a little hard if Harry keeps talking like this. The thought alone makes Harry grin. “I mean, sex with girls is great too. But, well, I’m more a _receiver_ than a giver.”

Louis laughs properly now, and Harry knows it’s because Louis gets that all too well. He remembers, Harry is sure of it. How could he forget? Their sex was always amazing. Definitely unforgettable. 

“Hey, don’t talk about missing sex with guys, Curly, you could’ve had yours last time you were in New York.” Louis replies, and Harry feels every muscle in his body instinctively tense up. 

They had been talking regularly like this for weeks now, and both of them have been yet to mention that night that Harry returned to New York. And now that Louis had, Harry knew that the illusion they had created that they could be friends and pretend their problems didn’t exist was ruined.

“I think I had a good reason to leave, Louis.” Harry replies shortly. He can’t help it.

“A good reason?” Louis echoes, his tone very clearly different now. “You didn’t offer me a reason. You just dragged me back to my apartment keen as a bean then changed your mind at the last minute because it was ‘too little too late’”. 

“It’s a little unfair of you to frame it like that.” Harry’s heart is beating faster now, his palms sweating, chest tightening. The familiar feeling he gets whenever he gets into an argument with Louis.

“Me being unfair? What’s unfair was you leading me on then pushing me away at the last minute!” Louis retaliates, and Harry can hear him stand up out of his chair. 

“Yes, you, Louis, you are being unfair.” Harry says, the anger and hurt boiling in his gut. “You lured me in with your nostalgia, and then brought me back to your apartment and fucked with my head, trying to have sex with me like nothing happened. And then you let me walk out the door again? Just like that? You are so damaged, Louis, it’s infuriating!”

“You’re the one who jumped out of the bed like someone had just shot at you, Haz. You’re the one who had a fancy new life to get back to. A girlfriend to sleep with, apparently. What the fuck did you want me to do? You told me that you were done with me. Excuse me for trying to salvage my pride and not come grovelling after you, trying to make you forgive me. I thought you were good to just have one night of things being like it used to be, and it didn’t even have to mean anything.”

“It’s always gonna mean something with us!” Harry roars back in a way that is completely uncharacteristic. It’s one of those moments like being in a bar, and you’re talking to your friends over the music – that moment when the music stops and all of a sudden you’re yelling and all eyes are on you.

“But it can’t, right?”

Louis is clearly waiting for confirmation, but Harry can’t say anything when Louis’ voice sounds like that – hopeful, sad, waiting for something Harry just can’t give him. Not when there’s so much pain, so many unresolved feelings of resentment and hurt he’s pushed down for so long that he doesn’t even know how to deal with them anymore. 

He loves Louis, thinks he probably always will, but being in love with Louis is too painful a concept to even consider now after everything that’s happened.

“Look Haz, I know I fucked up back then. I know I should have told you to stay, the first time you left and that night you came back. And I should have gotten over whatever my issues were. I should have cared about you more - no, I cared about you more than words, I mean, I should have expressed it differently, or whatever.” He lets out a classic Louis sigh, and Harry feels the hole in his heart that’s been there for months now more than ever. “I know that. Because if I had? We could have…” he stops himself and Harry hears him take a deep breath. 

“I don’t know what would have happened, Harry. Neither of us do. But I miss you so much. Like there’s this part of me that’s just, I don’t know… Like it’s just gone.” Harry feels tears brimming in his eyes, and from the sound of Louis’ voice on the other end of the phone, he’s feeling the same thing. 

“I can get laid. I can find a guy or a girl, whatever, and have sex. I can fill that physical void.” Harry feels his eyes narrow, but tells himself to hear Louis out. “What I can’t do is replace my best friend. My home. That’s what I miss. The guy I can call or text about anything, or nothing. The guy that made me laugh more than anyone else, and made me feel like the most special person to ever exist. The guy that knew and understood me like nobody else ever has.”

It knocks Harry back like a freight train, the weight of Louis’ words. Not only that, but the fact that Louis had said so much and allowed himself to open up like that. Somewhere over the course of the last few months, Harry had forgotten that version of Louis. He’s chosen to remember only the Louis that shut him out and let him leave New York, the Louis that dealt with their fight by hooking up with someone else.

He forgot that Louis used to talk to him about everything. Louis and Harry both talk a lot of shit and everyone teases them for it, but when it was just the two of them, they would talk about everything and anything. The world, their past, their futures, their dreams, or trivial things like what they ate for lunch that day or what music they were hating at the moment. Harry would lay his head in Louis’ lap, Louis would play with Harry’s curls, and it would feel like nothing else in the world existed, and if it did, it didn’t matter.

They had plans together. They were going to take over the world, one step at a time. They were going to travel with the money they would earn from their big roles as movie stars, living it up in LA. They were going to buy a big mansion in the Hills with a guest bedroom for Liam, a swimming pool to keep Niall happy when he visited and a basement for Zayn to cover with his artwork. They were going to buy another dog to keep Bruce company. Harry wanted a Golden Retriever, but Louis wanted to get another Bulldog. They were supposed to do it all together. With every plan they made for the future, that was the one thing that was the same about all of them - the fact that they were going to do it together, as Louis-and-Harry. 

“Lou. We can’t keep doing this. I don’t want things to get confusing,” Harry starts after a long silence. “But I want us to be able to talk to each other. As friends. I want you to call me if you get a new job, or if you’re coming to LA, or if you need someone to talk to.”

“Just not all the time.” Louis replies, and Harry isn’t sure whether Louis is finishing Harry’s thought process or agreeing with him. Either way, Harry knows that’s what for the best. “I want that from you too, Harry. Don’t shut me out.”

“I won’t. Bye, Louis.” Harry says, hating the way his stomach turns and tightens when he says the words.

“Bye, Harry.” 

The line goes dead, and Harry takes a big, deep breath, one lone tear sliding down his cheeks before he wipes it away with the back of his hand. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, having a friendship with Louis and talking to him all the time, not when Louis is the love of his life. 

He knows that now, and he can’t deny it anymore. Louis is the love of his life, and maybe they’re not supposed to be together anymore, but they definitely were back then, and Harry wouldn’t take it back for anything.  


  
—-

Harry receives an text message from Liam on June 10th. It’s the first he’s received from Liam in a few weeks, mind you, but Harry’s more than happy to be hearing from him nonetheless.

 

 

 

 

> _ Harry! Guess who’s coming to LA :D _
> 
> _No way! Really?!_
> 
> _ Yes way haha meeting with a music _   
>  _production producer person thing_   
>  _(i dunno haha) next week. Think you_   
>  _have some space in the new pad for_   
>  _me?_
> 
> _ Of course :) how long are you  
>  here for? _
> 
> _ only a couple of days. I'm such a  
>  jet setter  _
> 
> _this is so exciting! email me  
>  your flight info, ill pick you up  
>  from the airport :)  _

Harry may or may not greet Liam at the airport with a fluorescent pink sign that reads “Welcome to LA, Big Daddy!” complete with a smiling cartoon sun and a love heart, and Liam may or may not be so embarrassed he tries to squirm out of Harry’s bear hug, but all that matters is that they’re just really excited to see each other again. 

Liam may be naive and a little dorky at times (who isn’t) but Harry is just so happy to have a little piece of New York with him. Liam smells like laundry detergent and dog hair and cologne and there’s a faint whiff of marijuana smoke in there, and it makes Harry long to be at Zayn and Liam’s place again. 

Everything about Liam is familiar, and it’s something Harry didn’t know quite how much he needed until it was right in front of him. 

Harry shows Liam his house, his favourite restaurants, takes him to the Hollywood sign, the whole nine. But the thing Harry is most looking forward to is introducing Liam to Ed. 

“Liam Payne, meet Ed Sheeran.” Harry beams as he pushes the two boys together into a hug. Liam awkwardly pats Ed’s back, but Ed is a bit more receptive, burying his stubbled face in Liam’s neck.

“Any friend of Harry’s is a friend of mine, and all that crap.” Ed smiles as he sits down in his chair. 

Liam has been desperate to go to Urth Cafe ever since the car ride from the airport - Harry hadn’t shut up about it, of course - so Harry has obliged and decided to take Liam and meet up with Ed as well. He feels proper trendy and cool, telling Liam about all his favourite LA hangouts. It’s quite nice, actually. Harry never feels cool or trendy, even when he reads articles about how “hipster” he is. 

“Ed Sheeran, I know you!” Liam points at Ed, eyes squinting as he tries to figure out how and where he knows the name and face. 

“Ed is a musician.” Harry explains, and Liam lets out an ‘ahhh’. “He’s working on his debut album, actually. We’re all immensely proud.”

Ed rolls his eyes, and Harry just smirks at him. He actually is immensely proud of Ed, but he doesn’t need to know that. He can handle the teasing.

“And Liam is an aspiring musician-slash-actor.” Harry finishes.

“Not so much musician, more producer.” Liam flushes red slightly from the attention, but he smiles still. “I want to be, anyway.”

“He’s got a big meeting in a couple of days. It’s all very mysterious and exciting.” Harry smiles.

“It’s not mysterious, you just have no clue about music so you don’t know who or what I’m talking about.” Liam retorts, and Harry just shrugs. It’s true. His show-business knowledge is strictly acting-related.

“Well if you need any advice mate…” Ed shrugs. “Don’t mean to toot my own horn, but whatever I’m doing seems to be working so far. Got a record deal and that.”

Liam smiles gratefully at this, and he perks up in his seat a little. Liam always loved acting, but Harry hasn’t seen him this excited and enthusiastic about something in the whole time he’s known him.

A brief silence falls across the table, and Harry has to mentally shout at himself _don’t ask about Louis, don’t ask about Louis, don’t ask about Louis,_ but goddammit Liam’s been in LA for 34 hours now and he hasn’t mentioned Louis’ name once. Harry has tried at every turn to bring him up in conversation without actually bringing him up in conversation, but Liam has dodged it every time. It’s getting rather annoying, and Harry can’t help but think that maybe it’s because Louis has moved on and is seeing someone else and Liam’s too scared to tell Harry about it. 

Harry can't help it that he’s curious. It's natural to be curious about your ex and what they’re up to. That’s all it is. Really.

“So, Harry, how’s the love life?” Liam scratches the back of his neck awkwardly as a waitress brings over their drinks. Ed and Harry exchange knowing looks. 

“New York get tabloids, don’t they Liam?” Ed laughs a little. “You should know how his love life’s doing!”

“Well, yeah, I guess.” Liam flushes. “But we try to avoid reading them. Besides, you never know if that stuff is true.”

Harry nods, more than grateful that Liam and the other boys are intelligent and grounded enough to know that 90% of the stuff the media posts about Harry is pure bullshit.

“Why do you avoid reading them?” Ed asks, leaning back in his seat. 

“Ever since we saw one with the photos of Harry kissing Taylor Swift a month or two ago, the conniption fit Louis threw was enough to—“ Liam cuts himself off mid-ramble, and his eyes are immediately blown wide. He definitely wasn’t supposed to say what he just said.

Harry’s heart starts instinctively beating faster at the mention of his ex-boyfriend’s name ( _finally_ ), and he though Liam hadn’t meant to say it, Harry can’t pretend he didn’t hear that the sight of Harry with someone else had made Louis lose his mind. 

“Louis?” Ed asks, quirking his eyebrows as he looks from Harry to Liam. He looks very amused. 

“Louis is…” Liam looks to Harry, waiting for him to finish the sentence. He doesn’t. “my friend. He and Harry were, um…”

Harry refuses to meet Ed’s eye, instead dragging his thumb down the side of his iced tea, catching the little water droplets. He’s not going to finish Liam’s sentence and label what he and Louis were. Boyfriends, best friends, a closeted couple, husbands, domestic little puppies… A label never seemed to fit, never seemed to justify what it was that they had.  

“Ah, so there's a _boy_.” Ed turns his attention to Harry, a big smile playing on his lips. “That explains a lot.”

“There _was_ a boy.” Harry mumbles, still looking at his iced tea. “We’re just friends, if anything.”

“ _Just friends_?” Liam practically spits. Harry blinks at him, almost shocked at the outburst. The look on Liam’s face is one Harry hasn’t seen from him often, but he looks almost offended. “In no universe were you and Louis ever _just friends_. You will never be just friends.”

Harry looks back down at his hands, catching the way Ed is now staring at him as he does. His stomach is being weighed down by an empty feeling that has become all too familiar since he left New York.

“Just friends don’t bring out happiness in each other that didn’t exist before.” Liam continues. “Just friends don’t leave each other broken messes of what they used to be when they leave. Just friends don’t look at each other the way you two always did. Like nothing else in the world mattered.”

Each word stabs Harry in the chest, the painful truth hitting home more than Liam could ever imagine. He feels heavy. His arms, his chest, his stomach, it all just feels _heavy_ , like it’s being dragged down from the inside out. What Liam is saying might be accurate, but there is no way Liam has any idea how Harry is feeling and what he and Louis had, and to attempt to describe it in words is an injustice to what it was. 

There’s a long silence after Liam finishes talking, and Harry doesn’t want it to be broken. He doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, but he doesn’t want to talk about anything else either. He just wants to fast forward his life until talking about Louis doesn’t hurt anymore. 

“Take it from someone who knows, Haz.” Ed sighs after a long while. “Love, you will get over. That shit passes, you move on, whatever. But great love, that real, all-consuming love that makes you want to scream and cry and shout from the rooftops…”

Ed shakes his head, but he doesn’t look present. He’s lost in his words, in his thoughts. Harry wonders who Ed’s Louis is. 

“Great love is magic, Harry. It’s rare and it’s stronger than anything. And it never goes away. That’s the beauty and the pain of it.”

Harry bites his lip hard. He’s starting to realise that to be true, painfully so.

  
—-

  
It’s been four months since Louis Tomlinson’s name has appeared on Harry’s call log, and if it wasn’t for the occasional picture message from Niall or Liam, or random detailed description of what Louis is wearing that day form Zayn (Harry thinks Zayn does this just to torture him), Harry would think that Louis had just stopped existing. 

It’s not like he can be mad at Louis for it. It’s his own fault, really. When he’d told Louis that he didn’t want things to get confusing, he knew that meant that he probably wouldn’t hear from Louis for a while, or maybe ever again.

Maybe he brought that on himself. Maybe in some weird karmic way, Harry deserves it, deserves to feel this void that seems to be eating away at him from the inside out. 

But regardless of all that, Harry’s been living a reasonably happy life. The show has been picked up for a second season, ratings are through the roof, he made friends with this guy Nick who has his own radio show, and Perez Hilton said Haylor was one of the hottest couples of this year. If Harry was being honest, however, ‘hot’ is not the word he would use to describe his relationship with Taylor. They have sex like, once a week, if that, and most of their time together is spent watching cat videos or baking. Not that Harry dislikes either of those things - it’s a lot of fun, really - but, it’s just not _hot_.

Harry’s halfway through posting an anonymous comment on one of Perez Hilton’s articles about Harry and Taylor (“ _Personally I think Harry looks a bit bored, I think Harry and Ian Somerhalder would be a hotter couple_ ”) when his typing is interrupted by an incoming call. 

And looking back at him is the goofy face of none other than Louis Tomlinson.

Harry lets it ring a few times before answering, hands shaking. 

“Louis?” Harry’s voice is quiet as he swallows hard.

“Hey, Haz.” Louis responds, sounding nervous. There’s a bit of an awkward silence while Harry waits for Louis to continue but Louis isn’t saying anything.

“What’s up?” Harry prompts. 

“I have news. And you told me if I had important news that I should call, so, voila, I’m calling.”

“Is it good news or bad news?”

“It’s terrible news.” Louis starts, and Harry immediately begins to panic. “The people of New York will now be seeing my face far more than they’d like. It’s tragic for them, there’s people rioting in the streets, children are crying.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Harry asks, though it’s not uncommon for Louis to go off on a tangent like this and Harry to get lost along the way.

“Some guy approached me and he looks like a Rabbi but it turns out he works for an agency. So I have an agent now, and he landed me the lead role in this big musical.” Louis explains.

“A musical?” Harry asks, genuinely puzzled. “You can sing?”

“Apparently!” Louis sighs, and Harry can hear that he’s pleased with himself. And that alone makes Harry’s heart swell twice it’s size (metaphorically speaking, of course). Louis is not the kind of person to feel proud of himself or brag, not in a genuine way at least. And even though he’s keeping it to himself, Harry can feel how content and proud Louis is and it makes him feel, just, warm.

“Louis, that’s amazing.” Harry grins. 

“Thank-you, Harold. It means a lot that you’re happy for me.” Louis replies, his sincerity causing a brief silence between them as Harry struggles to think of something to say back. He’s proud of Louis, yes, but he’s not yet ready to jump back into heart-to-hearts with the guy. 

“Now sing for me, please.” Harry smirks. 

“Harry, I’m not going to sing for you.” Louis snaps, a tone of humour obvious in his voice.

“Well, you’re no fun then are you?” Harry giggles now, and he hears Louis laugh a little himself. 

“No. I’m dreadfully dull, actually.” He sighs dramatically. Typical Louis, Harry thinks. “I’ll only be cast as librarians and accountants for the rest of my career. It doesn’t leave me with many opportunities, but it’s a challenge I’m willing to accept.”

Harry laughs, raking a hand through his long curls. But for whatever reason, he can’t think of anything to say back. 

Louis seems to pick up on that, adding “Well, I’ve said what I called to say. Now I’m off to go be dull.”

“Thanks for calling, Lou.” Harry smiles. “I’m really happy for you,”

“Thanks for picking up, Haz. Bye.” Louis responds, but he stays on the line until Harry presses the ‘end call’ button.  
  
  
—-

  
Harry doesn’t get much mail with the exception of bills, with any fan mail going to his manager, so when he receives an envelope that has his name and address scribbled on it, his interest is automatically peaked. As he starts to open the envelope, Harry realises he recognises the messy scrawl, and all of a sudden he can’t rip the thing open fast enough. 

On thick, white cardboard that Harry knows from experience is expensive, in fancy cursive font, reads the words;

  
Niall is 21!  
Come to my parents Hampton's house, it’s sick!  
And we’ll all get wasted together!  
What better way to celebrate my adulthood.  
The house is at 214 Edgecombe Ave, South Hampton  
September 13, 2014 at 8pm  
Let me know if you can make it!  
Love Nialler

Harry can’t help but giggle as he walks towards the fridge, carefully sticking the invitation up with a magnet. The invitation is just so _Niall_. His parents may be ridiculously rich and he may have a maid and a personal chef and the most expensive car Harry’s ever ridden in, but he is one of the most down to earth and excitable people to exist. 

Harry will be attending the party, of course, but he can’t help but get a bit nervous at the idea that Niall would have definitely invited Louis. He practically idolises Louis, after all.  
  
That thought alone causes Harry to think about Niall and Louis and how they’d interacted during the time they all spent together in New York. Harry wonders if they still talked to each other often, but quickly reminds himself that of course they would. Harry leaving them wouldn’t have changed how close they had become. He wasn’t crucial to their friendship.

Harry’s thoughts now drift to the time the three of them had spent together when Niall had visited, Harry with his two best friends, Louis taking them both under his wing and showing them what the city had to offer. He thinks about how Niall used to go to the bathroom much more often and for much longer than he needed to, and how he never sat or walked or stood in between Louis and Harry, and Harry smiles. 

Niall knew. Of course Niall knew, he was Harry’s best friend in the whole world. He didn’t need to be told Louis and Harry were together to know that they were.

Harry misses Niall. He misses Zayn and Liam a lot sometimes too. Yes, he misses Louis the most, but by the time Harry left New York, Zayn and Liam weren’t just Louis’ best friends anymore, they were Harry’s too. Being raised by parents who thought money was more important than discipline or affection, Harry had forgotten what family felt like. The months he spent with Louis, Zayn and Liam had reminded him of that. 

Interrupting his thoughts of home, Harry hears Taylor coming through the front door. 

“Hey baby.” She smiles as she enters the kitchen. “How was your day?”

“It was good, thank you.” Harry responds, kissing Taylor on the cheek. He can’t quite put his finger on why, but he’s really hoping she doesn’t look at the fridge. 

“Oh, what’s this?” 

Crap.

Harry turns around to see Taylor fiddling with the corners of Niall’s invitation as she glances over the words.

“Niall’s birthday is soon, he’s having a party apparently.” Harry responds.

“Niall, that’s your best friend, right?” Taylor asks. “The one I haven’t met yet?”

Harry nods with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Oh, that’s cool.” She nods, crossing her arms across her chest like she’s waiting for Harry to respond. He doesn’t. 

“We used to make a big deal of birthdays when we were growing up, so I think I’m gonna ship something out to him a few days before his birthday.” Harry says after a few more moments of silence, and Taylor perks up at the idea. Harry’s just relieved to have broken the tension.

“Does that mean shopping?” She practically squeals. “I love shopping for birthday presents.”

“I know!” Harry smirks, leaning back against the counter. “But I was thinking something a little bigger than the stuff at the mall.”

Taylor frowns quizzically, but after a few seconds of internet browsing, Harry shows Taylor an image on his phone. Harry is rather impressed with himself when Taylor’s eyebrows shoot up behind her fringe and her mouth drops open. 

“Nice.” She mumbles, still staring at the screen.

“Think he’ll like it?” Harry asks, still smirking.

Taylor just nods mutely in response, and Harry grins broadly now. He can’t wait for Niall’s birthday.

 

—- 

 

Sure enough, just as Harry expected, he receives a call from Niall on Wednesday, September 10 at around 12pm Los Angeles time. 

“Harry you fucking legend!” Niall practically screams into the phone as soon as Harry picks up. He’s so loud that Taylor actually takes a step away from Harry as they walk down the street. 

“Happy early birthday, Nialler! You like?” Harry giggles. Niall actually _moans_.

“An Audi R8? Fuck me Harold, this thing is practically orgasmic. I’m about to take it out for the first time, just had to call and say thanks first of course!” Niall’s voice is enthusiastic and loud and Harry feels like his heart could burst. He hasn’t heard Niall this excited in a long time - actually, he hasn’t heard Niall’s voice at all in a long time. It feels like a big relief more than anything. 

“Well, what else is there to get for the guy who has literally everything?” 

“My dad got me a yacht.” Niall responds smugly, and within seconds they’re both laughing. 

“You’re such a spoiled brat.” Harry jokes, and Niall just keeps laughing.

“Let’s see if you’re still saying that when I take you out on my yacht after the party next week.” Niall responds, and Harry immediately lights up.

“How long do you want me to stay for?” Harry asks with a grin.

“How long _can_ you stay for? It’s not like I’ve got anything important going on, you can stay as long as you want.” Niall answers, but it’s not quite what Harry was looking for. Niall seems to notice this, adding, “Sean, Darragh and Eoghan are staying just for the weekend, Liam and Zayn are staying with me until Wednesday and Louis’ leaving on Thursday.”

“Awesome. I’ll see what I can do, should be able to clear my schedule for the week.” Harry smiles, and Niall lets out a definitive “YES!” from the other end. Taylor’s giving Harry a look now so he says his goodbyes and see you soons to Niall before hanging up, just as they arrive at the restaurant for lunch. 

“So,” Taylor starts almost as soon as they’ve given the waiter their orders. “Niall was happy with the car?”

“Happy is an understatement.” Harry giggles. Niall’s just a bubble of positive energy and Harry misses it so much. 

“That’s good.” She nods her head a little. “Hope he said thank you.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows together and takes a moment to think about what Taylor just said and what she could have meant by it. 

“Yeah, of course he did.” Harry says slowly, even slower than he usually speaks. “Why do you say that?”

“I’m just saying, it’s a really expensive car. You’d hope someone like Niall would appreciate it but you never know.” Taylor’s talking as though what she’s saying is no big deal, and Harry can’t help but look at her like she has three heads.

“Wait a second, what are you talking about?” Harry is a bit agitated now. He almost doesn’t know how to react - no one’s ever talked bad about Niall to Harry before. “Niall may be rich but he’s one of the most down to earth people I’ve ever met. He’s been grateful for everything and anything I’ve ever done for him.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it as an insult.” Taylor looks taken aback. “But, like, I’ve never met the guy before, Harry, what do you expect me to say? I’ve never even talked to him, I have no idea what he’s like. I’m just going off what little I do know about him.”

Harry slouches back in his seat now, tension leaving his body. It’s fair, really. Taylor’s right, she hasn’t met Niall before. She hasn’t met any of Harry’s friends, with the exception of Nick and Ed, but that’s just because they go to all the same parties as Taylor. 

Harry doesn’t get a chance to apologise, however, because Taylor continues, “Should I be concerned that I’ve never met Niall before? Or any of your friends?”

Harry frowns at this. “Are you saying you think my friends are imaginary?”

“No, that’s not—“ Taylor sighs. “I meant, like, you’re leaving for the Hampton’s for Niall’s party in two days. I’m just wondering when it is exactly that you’re going to ask me to go with you.”

Harry feels himself freeze, his breath stuck in his throat and his eyes just staring at Taylor. 

He hadn’t even thought of asking her to come with him. 

“I dunno, I just, I mean…” Harry regains his composure, running a hand through his hair. “I started a new life when I moved out here. And Niall’s party and his parents house and the like, the people that will be there are all apart of like, my old life. I dunno I guess I just didn’t think about it.”

“You don’t think that’s weird?” Taylor leans forward a little in her seat. “Harry, you leave the room every time someone from New York calls you. You talk about how much you love and miss your friends from New York but you pretty much never mention any names or details, all I know is that one of them is named Zack or something and that he always had good weed. When one of them came to visit you didn’t even tell me until after he had already left. You seem to have such a big problem with sharing your old life with me, why is that?”

Harry literally has no idea what to say.

Taylor looks expectantly at him, but her question echoes in his mind. It _is_ weird, really. Taylor’s his girlfriend - he should want her to come to Niall’s party and meet all his friends and see where he spent his summers growing up. He should want to show her off. But he just… doesn’t. 

“Be honest with me, Harry.” Taylor says quietly after Harry continues to not respond. So he sighs, and decides that’s the best thing for him to do right now.

“Being in New York with my friends, and partying with them… It just, that was like, our world. That little bubble that the five of us boys and Louis and I lived in and it would be, like, weird, to bring someone else into it.”

Taylor looks like Harry just slapped in her the face.

“Wait, who’s Louis?”

Shiiiiit. 

“Louis is a friend of mine.” Harry lies. Well, it’s not entirely a lie, he supposes. Louis is a friend of Harry’s; he just happens to be a lot more than that too.

“A friend. Right. Is this a friend you don’t want me to meet at Niall’s party?”

“Well, I don’t really want you to meet any of them.” Harry says without thinking.

“Excuse me?” Taylor recoils in shock. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just, you told me to be honest.” Harry looks down at the table and starts twiddling his thumbs. This is really uncomfortable. 

“So you don’t want me to come to The Hampton’s with you?”

“I just think I have a lot to think about.” Harry swallows hard, his hands moving from his lap to the top of the table to under his thighs in a matter of seconds. He’s not sure what to do with himself and he mostly just wants this conversation to be over.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Taylor looks mortified, but Harry can’t give her a response either way. He bites his lip. 

“Wait, you’re really breaking up with me in a restaurant in front of like fifty strangers?” Taylor asks, her tone slightly aggressive. 

“Well, I’d really rather not, but it just sort of happened. I’m very sorry.” Harry responds.

Of course, the waiter decides to bring their food over at that exact moment, and Harry, desperate to look anywhere but at Taylor, can’t help but notice that the guy is actually pretty fit.

“Oh my god,” Taylor whispers harshly, having apparently caught what Harry was staring at. “You’ve got to be _kidding_ me!”

Taylor flops back in her seat with a stunned and hurt look on her face. Harry quickly glances at the door. Escape has never sounded so good.

They eat their lunch in silence. It’s really fucking awkward and Harry has never in his life been this uncomfortable, but there’s paparazzi outside and people everywhere so if one of them leaves early or creates a scene, it’ll land them both in big trouble. 

Finally, after what feels like years, they’ve finished eating, and the walk to the car is no less awkward than the lunch. At least once they get in the car, Harry can blast The 1975 and pretend this situation doesn’t exist.

When they pull up to Taylor’s building, Harry’s phone buzzes in his pocket, but he’s not about to make this situation more awkward by checking his texts. So he just shoots her a small smile, and she barely manages one back.

“Bye. Thanks for lunch. I’ll send your stuff over when I get a chance.” She mumbles as she opens the car door and climbs out. 

Harry pulls his phone out as Taylor walks up to her front door, and bursts out laughing immediately. 

 

> _ Just had my first drive in the new _   
>  _beast ! Have I mentioned lately_   
>  _that I fucking love you Harry_   
>  _Styles! Best friend in th world!!!!_

Harry’s reply is simply a kissy face emoji and a balloon, and all of a sudden, he’s forgotten all about Taylor and the break up. It all seems distant now, like it happened years ago, and that his friendship with Niall and Louis and Liam and Zayn is what is present. It’s a peculiar feeling, and it leaves only one thought in Harry’s mind as he smiles all the way home. 

He cannot wait for Niall’s party. 

   
—-

  
Harry pulls up at Niall’s parents Hampton’s house with his heart in his throat and his stomach ready to fall out his ass. Okay, yes, he’s a little nervous. But it’s hard not to be. He hasn’t seen Louis, Niall, or Zayn in almost a year, and oh god what if they don’t want to talk to Harry? What if they’ve got a new Harry? What if Louis has a new boyfriend? What if he bought his new boyfriend to the party?

The taxi stops in the driveway and Harry clambers out, checking himself in the reflection in the car window. He’s wearing a short sleeved, white and grey patterned button up shirt, ripped black skinny jeans and his favourite dark green headband to keep his now long-enough-to-wear-in-a-bun hair off his face with a black coat in his hands. Yes, it’s true, he’d also tried on approximately thirteen other shirts and five pairs of pants and styled his hair four different ways before deciding on this look, but he’s feeling pretty confident. 

Niall’s 21st birthday party is exactly what one would expect if they knew Niall at all. It actually takes Harry a few moments after walking through the door to process what he’s seeing. It definitely doesn’t look like the house where Harry spent his summers growing up anymore, that’s for sure. 

The whole room is dark, illuminated only by UV lights, making anything that’s white or fluorescent glow in the darkness. The music is blasting, making the floors and walls shake, and there is more people crammed into the place than Harry thought possible. There’s girls wearing practically non-existent dresses everywhere Harry looks, and he knows that Niall probably doesn’t know most of their names, nor does he care. Everyone has a drink in their hands, and Harry can’t help but scan the crowd for a drunken Liam trying to start a dance-off, or Zayn chatting up a girl on the couches or Niall laughing and spilling his drink everywhere. He doesn’t spot them, but he does spot a group of about 10 people standing together in the corner. Harry is surprised he didn’t see it before, but he’s definitely not surprised when he realises who the group of people are all attentively listening to.

Louis is telling a story, by the looks of it, and as Harry gets closer, the group of people start laughing and howling, like Louis just told the funniest joke in the world. He has that effect on people. 

Before Harry can get close enough for Louis to notice him, he feels a warm hand clap down on his shoulder.

“‘Arry!” Niall exclaims, dragging on Harry’s shoulder until they’re facing each other. Harry grins broadly and wraps Niall in a tight hug, lifting the shorter male off the ground for a few seconds.

“Happy birthday!” Harry giggles as Niall grabs his ass on his way out of the hug. He smells of beer and cologne and cigarette smoke in a way that lets Harry know without asking that he must have just come from talking to Zayn. “Are you having fun?”

“Am I having fun?” Niall repeats, his voice slightly slurred and more than slightly incredulous. “Look around you, Hazza! This party is insane!”

Harry laughs, and Niall pulls him closer into his side. Harry looks up to where Louis had been before and finds that the group of people still surrounds him, but Louis has his gaze fixated on— Niall? It’s not a friendly gaze either, and definitely one Harry has never seen directed at Niall. Curious. 

“Come on, Zayn and Liam are outside.” 

Niall leads Harry through the massive living area and the crowds of people, handing him a freshly poured beer as they go. Harry hears a few people whisper and one person ask “Oh my god are you Harry Styles?” as he walks past, but it’s nothing he’s not accustomed to now. He just smiles as Niall leads him out the back door and onto the huge patio overlooking the pool, which is also filled with people, despite the weather. The Hampton’s get quite cold around this time of year when the sun goes down, but not cold enough to stop naked drunk people swimming in Niall’s parents’ pool, apparently. 

Harry spots Zayn leaning against the patio railing, drink in one hand, cigarette in the other, wearing only a t-shirt and jeans. He looks effortlessly cool and handsome, and it comforts Harry to know that at least some things haven’t changed since he left. Liam is sitting on the decking next to Zayn, a dark grey coat that Harry recognises as Zayn’s draped over the shoulders of the black coat he’s already wearing and a navy sweater laying over his lap like a blanket. And he’s still shivering. 

“Harry!” Zayn smiles when he sees Harry, dropping his cigarette to the ground so he can reach out to shake Harry’s hand with a grin. Harry ignores the gesture, instead opting to throw his arms over Zayn’s shoulders, wrapping him in a tight hug. Zayn laughs. “Missed you too, H.”

“Liam, get up.” Zayn says once they’ve separated, in the most kind way an order can be given. Liam does as he’s told, coats and sweaters falling to the ground as he does, and he too gives Harry a warm hug.

“We’ve missed you around these parts, Mr. Big Celebrity!” Liam grins at Harry, who’s cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I’ve told you, Liam, I’m not a big celebrity. I’m just Harry.”

“What you are is not nearly drunk enough.” Niall comments, taking Harry’s drink from his hands, holding the cup to Harry’s lips and tipping the beer down his throat, not satisfied until Harry has successfully downed the entire thing. 

Harry lets out a low groan when he’s finished, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Niall, you know I hate beer.” he whines, and almost as if it was planned, another drink is offered to him, held out by a tattooed arm that looks a lot like—

“Louis.” Harry smiles, breath caught in his throat as he turns to face the older male. He reaches out to take the red cup, but ends up accidentally knocking it, splashing the dark liquid on Louis’ white t-shirt. “Oops.”

“Hi.” Louis smiles, and Harry swallows hard as his smile broadens even more. It’s not at all awkward like Harry thought it would be, and to say he’s relieved is an understatement. 

Harry isn’t sure how long he and Louis just stare at each other and smile, but it must be too long, because Zayn is now clearing his throat. 

“Should we go in the pool?” Liam asks hesitantly, eyeing the scantily clad girls swimming around.

“No!” Harry responds.

“That is literally the worst idea you’ve ever had, Payno.” Louis adds. Niall just laughs. 

“Maybe tomorrow, Liam, when it’s a bit warmer.” Harry hears Zayn say quietly to Liam, who is now proper pouting. It’s quite amusing, actually. 

“So how’s the missus, Harry?” Niall smirks, and Harry knows Niall is only bringing it up because he must have heard. “I saw you guys on some website yesterday. Said you were on the rocks!”

Harry doesn’t miss the way Zayn and Louis exchange glances and smirks. 

“We broke up, actually.” Harry admits, and Niall acts shocked.

“Say it isn’t so! You two were so perfect for each other.” Niall laughs now, and Harry smirks and shakes his head, fully aware of Niall’s sarcasm. Typical Niall.

“It is what it is.” Harry says pointedly, side-glancing at Louis, who swallows hard. 

Niall starts asking Zayn about some girl he was apparently sleeping with last time Niall was in the city, and Harry wants to ask Liam about Sophia, but he painfully realises he has no idea if they’re even still together. He would hate to upset Liam if he brought her up and they’d broken up.

He hates that he knows hardly anything about these boys when he used to know absolutely everything that went on in their lives. 18 months ago, on any given day Harry could have told you what Zayn ate for breakfast, or what time Liam went to sleep the night before. Now he doesn’t even know the biggest, most important parts of their lives.

“Are Liam and Sophia still together?” Harry whispers to Louis, trying to entirely ignore the way his heart starts beating faster as his lips brush against Louis’ ear.

Louis nods in response, so Harry ignores the look Zayn is giving them and says, “Li, how’s things with Soph?”

Liam immediately lights up and Harry can’t help but smile back. 

“Things are good! Things are really good, her lease is up soon so we’re thinking about…” Liam stops himself short, his eyes suddenly widening as he apparently realises what he was about to say. 

Harry immediately turns his gaze to Zayn, not at all missing the way Zayn’s face drops as he turns to look at Liam. He’s smart enough to know what Liam is about to say, and all four of the other boys know it’s not something Zayn wants to hear.

“Anyway!” Louis interjects, clapping a hand on Zayn’s shoulder to distract him. “I believe Niall raised a good point about none of us being pissed enough yet? And who are we to deny the birthday boy his one and only birthday wish?”

Niall laughs, as he usually does whenever Louis opens his mouth, and Harry too can’t help but giggle a bit.

“Well, Louis, I also wished for a lap dance from a hot blonde chick with a nice ass so if you can arrange that for me too then my night would be pretty much complete.” Niall smirks, finishing off the rest of his drink.

“It’s settled then! Alcoholism and lap dances for everyone!” Louis exclaims, and the other four boys laugh. Harry feels overwhelmed in that moment, looking from face to face, watching the way Niall tosses his head back and laughs hysterically, the way Liam is giggling and looking white girl wasted already, the way Zayn is smiling but keeps glancing at Liam out of the corner of his eye, and the way Louis smirks, his eyes crinkling, Harry knowing full well that he’s feeling incredibly pleased with himself for making everyone laugh, as per usual.

Trust Louis to make it feel like Harry never even left.

LA could provide Harry with all the wealth, sunshine, success and Taylor Swifts he could ever ask for, but this right here, is one thing that LA doesn’t and will never have - Harry’s lifelong best friend, the only person he’s ever been in love with, and the two boys that became his brothers in New York. The four people who helped shape him into the person he is today without even realising. This is what Harry has been missing for months, and there are no words to describe how nice it feels to know that he can have it all back, just like that, even if only for one night. 

Niall sneaks inside the house and returns a minute later with two full bottles of vodka, and from there, things start to get a little out of control. 

The night is a bit of a blur, but Harry distinctly remembers Louis, Zayn and Niall grinding on random strangers, Harry and Louis stealing the clothes of random strangers left sitting by the pool, Harry and Niall dancing stupidly with their shirts tied around their heads, Niall declaring a rubber duck as his new best friend, Liam and Zayn having an alcohol-fuelled deep and meaningful on the stairs, Niall kissing Zayn and Zayn not fighting against it, Liam spraining his wrist trying to breakdance, Louis accepting a dare to chat up a girl (and failing miserably), Niall drinking an entire gallon of chocolate milk then throwing it all up afterwards, Louis giving Liam an atomic wedgie, and Harry _definitely_ remembers the three bottles of vodka and fifteen Budweiser’s the boys managed to work their way through. 

It’s 3AM when Harry finds himself alone with Zayn in one of the many lavish bedrooms, having been locked in there and dared to make out by Niall, who is surprisingly into gay antics when he’s intoxicated. 

They’re both laying back on the large king-sized bed, Harry’s chest rising and falling as he contemplates just how drunk he is. Like, he’s probably 12 standard drinks down by this point and he has that warm, fuzzy, drunk feeling filling him up inside, but he’s not ready to throw up or anything. Maybe. 

“Hey.” Zayn smiles, turning his head to face Harry. Harry smiles back.

“Hey.”

“How are you, Harry?” Zayn says, a tone of seriousness to his voice.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Harry bites his lip, recalling how much he’s missed Zayn over the last year. 

“Too long, brother.” Zayn pushes himself up onto his elbows. “How’s LA?”

“It’s been weird,” Harry begins. “Like… It’s been good. The weather’s nice, the people are friendly, I love my job. Working with Ashton and Lucy has been amazing. I’m living my dream. My house is just incredible. But…”

“You miss it, don’t you?” Zayn stares at Harry, but Harry just looks down and shakes his head.

“You have no idea. Home isn’t a place or a city, you know? It’s people.”

Zayn gives Harry a small smile that tells Harry that he knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“I mean, you and Liam, Niall… Louis… That year in New York was like, the best time of my life. I wish I could have like, the best of both worlds. I wish my show filmed in New York, or that you guys lived in LA. If you lived in LA, I wouldn’t have had to…” Harry sighs, sitting up so he’s cross legged on the bed. Something about Zayn and also being drunk just forces Harry to be more honest than he’s been with anyone in a long time. “It’s been really hard.”

“You’re not the only one that’s been struggling, Haz.” Zayn replies softly, and Harry feels a lump forming in his throat. “He came out to his mom, you know.”

Harry’s head snaps up at that, his eyes widening. He knows how hard that must have been for Louis. Coming out to Zayn and Liam was one thing, but Harry knows better than anyone that coming out to your parents is one of the single hardest things in the world, especially when you’re the only son in the family. 

He wonders why Louis never said anything. 

“He did?”

“Yep. He kind of screamed it at her, actually. Whilst drunk at Christmas dinner. It was awkward as fuck.” Zayn smirks a little.

“Wow. How did she handle it? What did he do? Was he okay?” Harry’s concern is more than genuine. He may have broken up with Louis but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry about him. He worries about him quite a lot, actually.

“He didn’t handle it well. But Jay was really good about it. She sat him down properly and told him she loves him no matter what but maybe don’t go drunkenly yelling at her next time he has life changing news.”

“God. I can’t believe he told her.” Harry mutters to himself, stuck on the idea. This doesn’t sound like the Louis he once knew at all. Well, the drunken screaming bit does. But coming out to his family and friends? Not at all. 

“He’s done nothing but miss you, Harry.” Zayn adds quietly. “Every single day, he misses you. I’ve never seen him like this.”

Harry swallows hard and starts chewing on his lip, feeling his eyes burn as he thinks of Louis, just like he has thousands of times since he left New York. He’d wondered if Louis missed him, if Louis thought about him, if Louis moved on. So many times, he’d played everything over in his head and thought up hypothetical situations for the future, if they were to ever meet again. That stupid boy with his tattoos and his sassy comments that let Harry walk away never left Harry’s mind for longer than ten minutes. 

“You know, I was reading the newspaper yesterday,” Zayn says slowly “and turns out your old apartment in Gramercy Park is being leased again.”

Harry lets this sink in for a moment, thinking about the apartment and the significance of it. It’s where Zayn and Louis and Liam met Niall for the first time. It’s where Louis and Harry had their first kiss. It had been his home once. And Harry could most definitely afford to pay the rent there on his own now with all the money he’s made from the show. 

Harry doesn’t get to ponder the idea any longer, however, because someone is now very loudly banging on the bedroom door.

“Alright, times up boys! Your seven minutes in heaven is over!” Niall calls, bursting into the room and subsequently spilling his drink all over himself. 

Fucking Niall and his bad timing. 

Harry and Zayn rejoin the other boys after that, and after more drinking and dancing and falling and in Niall’s case, sloppy drunken kisses, the party starts to settle down at around 5AM. 

As Harry lays on his back on Niall’s parents incredibly comfortable couch, Niall turns the music right down, and what’s left is near silence. Everyone else has gone home or passed out at some point, leaving Niall, Harry, Louis, Liam and Zayn as the only people left standing. 

“Party champions!” Harry hears Niall exclaim, and a drunken giggle escapes him. 

Harry sighs happily, and has just decided now is the time to pass out when Louis appears above him, face only inches from Harry’s.

“Harold. Don’t go to sleep.” Louis demands, and Harry finds himself sitting up almost immediately. Louis straightens up, hands on hips. “I have something to show you.”

“You have something to show me?” Harry mumbles, rubbing his eyes. “It’s not a penis thing, is it?”

“What would be the point in showing you that, love, you’ve seen it all before.” Louis chirps. He reaches down to take Harry’s hands, practically dragging the taller male off the couch. “Come on, let’s go Big Bird.”

Louis leads Harry onto the big second-storey balcony and has him face towards the house. It seems really bizarre, if Harry’s honest, but he might just be too drunk to realise what’s going on.

“Stay there.” Louis instructs, and Harry, of course, does exactly that as Louis darts back into the house. 

Harry hums the Jeopardy theme song to himself until Louis appears on the third-storey balcony that hangs over the front door of the house.

“Well, come on Styles, are you just going to stand there looking pretty all day? Let’s move!” Louis smirks as he climbs onto the balcony railing and grabs on to the roof above.

Harry stares dumbfounded at Louis as he Spidermans his way up from the balcony to the roof. Harry has the grace and agility of a baby giraffe, thus there is absolutely zero chance of him being able to follow Louis.

“Are you kidding me, Lou? You know I can’t do that.” Harry pouts.

“I know. That’s why I found a ladder in the pool house for you.” Louis nods and points to the ladder, which he has kindly set up against the house for Harry. Harry’s legs are shaky and his head feels foggy, but he’s definitely less drunk than he was two hours ago, which is more than a good thing in this situation. 

Before long, Harry is on the roof, and hesitantly crawls his way over to where Louis is sitting, legs crossed, right in the middle of the roof. 

“Alright, what are we doing up here?” Harry sighs, shifting around to get himself comfortable.

“Admiring the beauty that is life and earth and mother nature and all that jazz.” Louis grins happily at Harry, gesturing out in front of him. The trees and distant neighbouring houses are all silhouetted, and the sky is a beautiful pale blue. The sun has just started to rise. “Bit corny, I know, but I’ve become a romantic in my old age, what can I say.”

Harry giggles at this, and Louis lets out a happy sigh. “It’s not all that bad, you know?”

“I know what you mean.” Harry bites his lip. “It’s a pretty great feeling to know that no matter what we do or where our lives take us, we’ll always have this to come back to. Us five boys.”

“Us.” Louis agrees, but Harry knows there’s another implication to that word.

Harry and Louis sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the distant laughter of Niall, and Liam’s occasional protests. Harry imagines Zayn and Niall are wrestling, trying to drag Liam into it as per usual. He lets out a deep, content breath, and allows himself to glance over at Louis. 

His profile is beautiful, more beautiful than ever, Harry thinks, as the sun rises over the mansions and landscape surrounding them, illuminating everything it touches. A lot like Louis does. 

He looks at Louis for only a few more seconds before returning his gaze to the view. It really is incredible to see, and Harry realises that right now, there is literally no other place in the world he’d rather be. 

Maybe this was exactly how everything was supposed to happen.

Suddenly, Louis turns his gaze on Harry. Harry can feel him looking at him, can see it out of the corner of his eye. He glances at Louis with a small smile, quickly, but long enough to recognise the look Louis is giving him. 

Louis is looking at Harry like his entire world exists within that one twenty year old boy. But the sun continues to rise, and the birds are chirping in the distance, and somewhere in the house below them, their three best friends are drunk and laughing and undoubtedly breaking things. And in a few days, Louis will go back to the city and Harry will go back to LA. The world does exist outside of the two of them. Harry has certainly realised that the last year in particular. But maybe that’s okay. 

“I love you, Harry.” Louis says. 

And there it is. So simple, like it’s the most obvious, easiest thing in the world. Like nothing else is important, nothing else matters, except the fact that Louis is in love with Harry.

“I know.” Harry replies, looking back at Louis with a genuine smile.

 


End file.
